sitting on a washing machine

“Don’t you lecture me. You’re just fighting so that people will like you. You’re so desperate for their approval, yet have the nerve to call me spiteful. My path as a warrior doesn’t lead to acknowledgment or people carrying me on their shoulders. I don’t fight in life because I want to be idolized. I fight to understand myself, to know my limits, to know what I’m capable of, and to go even farther. The challenges I’ve overcome, the setbacks I’ve endured, the boundaries I’ve surpassed! Those are what define me as a man, as a warrior! I walk this path because life is most valuable when you have to fight for it!”

But that was only the beginning, of course—Daddy was just getting started! He began really giving it to me after that, pounding in hard, punishing my insides in the best possible way, just how he knew I loved it most! I could tell Mom could hardly believe what she was seeing, gasping and whimpering in sympathy with the absolute beating I was taking, whether I was enjoying it or not. I made sure to turn my head after every orgasm, ensuring that both Mommy's titties were equally marked up from my teeth. She wasn't going to be wearing any cleavage-revealing tops for the next couple of days, that was for sure!

I let myself have a little shiver of anticipation as I thought about it, confident that if Rachel saw it through her cameras she would misinterpret it as fear. But my face, I kept a mask. Mustn't do anything to make her think I was enjoying this, not yet! Not until I was sure she would keep doing me, even after she knew! I had months and months of 'punishment' ahead of me, as long as I played my cards right... and I could hardly wait!