" Hannah's heart sank. The bastard had gotten there first. "However," the old man continued, "that is not the impression I got from Mr. Phillips." Han...ah looked up. Mr. Phillips was baby Alexander's father. And the professor's tone of voice had changed. "Mr. and Mrs. Phillips think the world of you. Besides caring for their tiny little boy so well, you have given them real hope, they said." The professor paused for a moment. "They could well need that," he added heavily.Hannah didn't say. He tied off the rope on the middle brace and stood up. She was stretched tightly and spread-eagled at the base of the ironing board. Her chest rose and fell in anticipation of what would come next.She couldn't move. She didn't care. The fire between her legs pulled her onward. A fuck slut. I'm a fuck slut, a bad little girl who needs it bad.Henry moved around the board, kneeled at the base, and drove his tongue into her wetness. She began panting as unfamiliar sounds moved from her throat into. More

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