A pretty, well dressed, middle-aged woman stepped in front of the car and waved me to stop. I rolled the window down an inch."Please forgive me, but I...was in line ahead of you and your son. He is your son, is that right?" The poor woman looked as nervous as I felt. Her slight mid-western accent rose and fell with her words."Y-yes, he's my son. Did I forget something at the checkout counter?" No, not that. Ohhh, I'm messing this up. Here," She fumbled in her purse and withdrew a pink business. Pain causedcaptives to break down... to betray their comrades.And pain caused pleasure.In fact, he knew of no greater pleasure thendispensing pain. It always caused his belly to churn and his member to harden.Just like this one in front of him supplied him with afeeling of gratification and raunchiness at the same time.Just a few hours longer, and he could conscientiouslyreport to Lord Arrakur, that the black-haired slut was as stubborn as thefair-haired one. Surely his master would order the. More

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