Miranda didn't quite understand the strange dark sexuality which existed between she and her step-father. After her mother died, it grew worse, even as she prepared to leave for college. But then he remarried, she and her step-father's young, Latin wife hated each other at first sight. There was always a level of sexual tension and hostility between them, though she felt no desire for the hot tempered, dark haired beauty. Yet why did she let herself be dominated by the woman, let herself be demeaned and degraded by her? How had she come to revel in the perverted sexual games and punishments the woman played with her? She didn't understand it, but couldn't control it. And neither could her step-father. She came to feel contempt for him, for his phony morality as he sat back and watched his lovely young wife strip and bind her, as he pretended himself above such crass human behavior even while he excitedly watched Eva whip and abuse her. But was it abusive when Miranda's screams were of pleasure more than pain? And was her step-father really so much above sating his lust on beautiful blonde Miranda when he had always desired her? How long would he be content to watch before giving in and joining his wife in the dark sexual abuse of his lovely young step-daughter? Miranda wondered, hating them both, hating the raw, dark lust which swept over her as she posed for him, as Eva degraded her in front of him and made her beg for more.