Fucking South Indian Wife
Leaping showed to be of no use either as the distance was too far. My will power gave way, my strength close in its retreating stead. I fell into a wall, sinking within some distance before it provided adequate support. I trembled, grasping at the muck – I could not see! But what was there to see? Turning around, I stretched forth an arm from my roost and found my fingers grazing a wall of mud in parallel. Upright mud rose also at the perpendiculars, the two not more than arms apart as well. I was locked solitary within this minuscule prison – nay! a prism! A rectangular prism, and never was there more wretched a construction. Its head peaked six feet above my own – beyond my reach – beyond my ascent. No one shared my prism thankfully – as it would be quite crowded – and I was left to myself and darkness. Such used to be a friend, darkness, it provided cover from my pursuers. But now, now darkness was a fiend! Disallowing me from even seeing my walls – I cursed it – loathed it –. She fondled my clitoris & played with my intimacies, toying with the ben wah balls, in both my vagina & anus. ?You may kneel.? She told me leaving my panties just above my knees I did so. She slipped both of my breasts out of the maids dress & fondled their pert plumpness & my now erect nipples, in the process smearing my juices all over them. Then wiping her finger dry on my apron. She leaned back, Leaving me kneeling there in a state of undress. ?I think I?m very pleased with both of my purchases.? She told me. ?Your purchases, Mistress?? I asked her naively. She looked at me. ?I am your new owner girl.? ?My owner.? I repeated stunned ?But what about Mistress Helen?? I asked ?What about her?? She asked quizzically then burst into laughter ?Oh dear, hasn?t she told you?? ?Told me?? ?Helen is a slave trader, & a very good one at that.? ?But what if I don?t want to be a slave, nobody told me anything about this.? She laughed again a little more coolly this time. Then she stopped.
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