He'd gotten played. Again.*Instead of going downstairs to his study to began on his work project, John remained in his bedroom, in the bed, even after...noon. He could hear the hyperactive girls running around in their stilettos, talking, giggling, etc. He vowed to hide in his room until they left. He didn't want to run into that devilish little freak. There was no way he was going to allow himself to be preyed on again."Daddy," Stacy cried as she entered his room with a rather disturbed facial. She had put on the revealing dress and stood in the anteroom of the Baxter house knowing full well she was on display to be a fuckslut. The thought of being a butt slut scared her. This was however what the Baxter House was reputedly known for. After standing in that revealing gown and politely answering questions from patrons, she had gathered four silver tickets on the silver platter she was instructed to hold. She had interviewed for the privilege to be on this stool, splayed open and fucked. More

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