I needed to be fucked. I needed to cum.And he didn’t give me what I needed. He didn’t treat me like a slut.“My husband, what are—”“Husband...” he roared as he hauled me down the stairs, his every step booming. “Husband! After you called that boy Master you dare call me husband!” His hand twisted, twining my hair around his fist, and yanked me closer to him. I gasped, almost falling down the stairs as I hurried after him. He reached the landing, hauled me to the living room, my son, daughter, and. Heather opened the door with a bright smile and said, "Come in. I've just finished another for you, so this is perfect timing."Heather led Danica inside and showed her a jar sitting on the table in the middle of the room. It looked as though Heather had finished her work only moments before.Danica sat down to examine it. The jar was the color of new leaves — about four and a half inches high and etched with very realistic maple leaves. Examining the top, Danica found it likewise etched with the. More

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