Oh...you mean about how some people say black men are well-endowed? Look, Tim...I can't deny that there are stereotypes like that out there, but they don't change the fact that my son is just a kid. He doesn't deserve to be bullied or humiliated because of them.

As for your question about me being racist...I'm not sure what you mean. I was raised to treat everyone with respect and kindness, regardless of their race or background.

Tim, I'm shocked by what you just said. I had no idea that you felt this way about me. And as for the language you used...it's extremely offensive and unacceptable.

But let's get back to the topic at hand: my son's safety. I won't stand for him being bullied anymore, so please promise me that you'll leave him alone from now on.

And as for our conversation...I think it's best if we end it here before things get any worse.

Their heads still spinning from the intensity of the night's events, Jessica and Rose lie side by side on the bed, watching as their master paces back and forth in front of them. They know that they belong to him now, body and soul; that his cum is what sustains them, what gives them purpose.

As Master approaches the bed once more, his erection already beginning to stir anew, Jessica looks up at Rose with wide, frightened eyes.

She smiles reassuringly down at her, taking Jessica's hand in hers. "It's okay," she whispers softly. "We're together now." And as they wait for their master to claim them once more, they find strength in each other's touch, comfort in the knowledge that no matter what comes next, they will face it side by side.

As I slip on my clothes and head downstairs to eat breakfast, I can't help but feel like a different person than the woman who went up to bed last night. The shame and guilt are almost overwhelming, making it difficult to swallow even the most bland of foods. My eyes keep drifting toward the clock on the wall, knowing that soon enough I'll have to face him again... and whatever twisted game he has in store for me today.

I bite my lip hard, trying to force back the tears that threaten to spill down my cheeks as I sit at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of cold coffee. The weight of what has happened feels almost too much to bear... but I can't just give up. I have to find some way out of this nightmare, some way back to the life I once knew.