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The men around me see me as a slave now and some always will, even if I’m the survivor. As proof, half way through my stumbling journey back to my cell, arms pinned back behind me once indian more and driven by the choking band of leather tight around my throat, the guard driving me holding the pole slams me without warning into the wall. As if this is a prepared signal his colleague is on me immediately, hands invading my wrap. And then, village he molests me intimately, squeezing my breasts, cupping my sex, and running his fingers up the cleft between my buttocks. Once number one has had his fun they swap positions, and the other one takes his turn. During the groping my fragile self-control dissolves yet again, and I’m reduced once more to tears. When the ordeal is finally over they resume herding me almost as if nothing just happened, but I feel shattered. “Don’t try complaining to anybody about this, cunt!” one of them barks to me while my hateful pneumatic chest bangla heaves with sobs. “No one will believe you, or care.” He’s probably right. If the Slavers investigated claims of sexual assault by captive women, they’d never have time for anything else. These two men have groped me and there’s nothing I can do about it. They’re going to get away scot-free, and they’ll do it because I’m a worthless slave. I’m emotionally grateful to be back in the comparative safety of the cell but physically I feel terrible. The side of my face aches, I can still feel where the guard’s hands were on me, and the burning from the injections couple in my groin remains as a tingling itch between my legs which keeps demanding my attention. The irritation feels a little more comfortable with something pressing against the intimate region, so I rest back against the wall with my knees drawn up and my forearms collage squeezed between my thighs. In this manner I can hold one of my wrists intimately against my nether lips without the position looking unladylike. When I discover this, I have a flashback to remember Ja-Alixxe behaved the same way after her processing. Maybe she also has the same whatever-it-is, but I have no intention of revealing any vulnerability by asking her. I try to sit nonchalantly, concealing what’s been done to me. Instinct is urging me to hide the slave’s mark on my face, and I do keep the marked side turned to the wall for much of the first evening after processing. I conceal it because it shames me to have women I want to respect me seeing that Colonel Melena de Santo has been marked as a sex slave, and will forever carry the symbol proving that she has failed. 9 - Allies We’ve been shut in this stifling hot cell forever, what are the Slavers waiting for? Sighing with irritation I shift position, drawing up my wrists a little. I’m sitting propped back against the wall, knees raised, elbows between my thighs. Then he walked over to her and started to sniff at her crotch, burying his head into her lap as she sat at the kitchen table. Chapter Fifty-Three: Ealaín's Revelation However, the look on her face completely changed indian as he took most of my throbbing eight-inch cock between his lips. After what we had done she wasn’t concerned that we were both nude or that she was on the can village “Are you okay?” I asked. "We're not through with you yet, bitch," bangla she said with a snarl. I would prefer someone middle-aged or older, by meaning middle aged being 45 or older. “I’m Chelsey Blake. God, she looks so hot with your cock stuck in her ass. I was starting to grind my soaking wet pussy against his massive hard on and sat up to slide back and forth couple on it. "So, do we have a sale?"Martha asked as Sarah admired herself in the mirror, the gentle curves, the collage lack of sharp creases and that wonderful warm rubbery comforting feel of the latex. But with everything he knew about his brother’s inability to walk away from someone in need, he knew it must have happened as he described it. "I know all about you, Doris. Tatyana, the cheer captain dressed in her purple and gold uniform, bounded to her feet. But them women are radiating happiness all day. Chapter Three: Billy's New Slutty Family I looked down and saw that everything from her asshole to her belly buttom was clenching like an accordion. “There must be something… Something that can be done. With her blonde wig. I could feel She spread her legs as wide as she could and he took in her scent. That was true, her belly was big but she had soft curves, big breasts, and very full lips I could not wait to kiss.