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This is the only Tj Jordon bump. I stopped. He withdrew His cock. He ij, still holding my hair, hpt forced His cock past my lips. Then, He began to thrust and xznthi while keeping my head still. After almost a minute of this, he exploded, hkt my mouth. But there was too much for xantui to cope with and it dribbled down my chin onto His pantaloons. Desperate for reassurance that I had not disappointed Him, I dared to raise my eyes to His. At last my dearest wish had come true. I had a Master who would punish me when I messed up, but who would praise me when I succeeded.
He snuggled and fell asleep. Oh, how I silently prayed He would wake up and order me to climb in and lie beside Him. I thought about doing just that, but there are rules about that sort of thing, and, unfortunately, His kind make them and my kind obey them. I was awakened in the middle of the night with a yell, a curse, and the sound of something soft hitting something hard. Stupid girl that I am, I had made my bed in the exact place a half-conscious Master making His way to His lavatory would tread. He had tripped over me, in the darkened room, and fallen headlong into the mahogany table. I leapt to my feet and rushed to see how He was.
Oh my, what was I to do now? What could I expect for causing a man to die? So I did, right into the arms of the man-mountain, who was sleeping outside the door, had heard the commotion, and was coming to find out what was causing it. His arms hung limply at His sides as they maneuvered Him until His head rested once more on His plump pillows. A small trickle of blood oozed from His left temple. They covered Him, while I stood shivering in the cold night breeze, which blew through the open window. I replied I knew only that Master had fallen and struck His head, and that it was the sound of His flesh striking the hard wood of the table that had awakened me.
Franca nodded, thoughtfully, and said I should remain with Master while he summoned the Captain of the Guard. Truthfully, he confused me with his long words and long-winded delivery. Maybe he was a schoolteacher in another life, or something? Either way, I was seriously panicked by this new turn of events. Someone had to have caused Him to fall.
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And who was only a few feet away? Yes, little me: This girl is beginning to sound like the Chief Advisor! I told you I was the prime suspect. Jana, who was the oldest of the women, here, sat quietly sewing. I felt so bad, I started crying, too, and was soon blabbing that I had caused Him to fall over and strike His head and that I was so sorry and everything and that I wished it had been me who had struck her head and not Him and that I deserved the worst punishment possible for doing such a dreadful thing which had caused them to maybe lose their wonderful Master. Jana was now listening with one ear pressed against the trellis panel. She gave us a running commentary in a low whisper.
Naturally, if you are a free citizen, of good standing, you need only obey the laws of common decency. However, a slave girl usually wears nothing but her collar and rings. Indeed, I had spent my entire time in Rishmureb naked as the day I was born. However, if I left the sanctity of Master's house as I was, my nakedness would so offend those around me that I would be stoned to death on the spot. I would need proper clothing, not the seductive outfit I was presently wearing. But where could a girl get such items? I ran to her and took the basket from her, leaving her looking both confused and relieved. I pulled item after item from the basket, scattering them behind me, as I frantically searched for something I could wear.
Eventually, I settled on a worn and faded dress, with a fringed hem and long sleeves. I quickly found a long scarf drying on a washing line and stole it, wrapping it around my head and the lower part of my face as I walked quickly into the bustling throng. My nerves were raw with worry. I was not capable at this point of rational thought, otherwise, I might have died of fright at prospect of the fearful punishment that would face me upon my inevitable capture. I simply functioned at an unconscious level.
The sounds and smells that xanhhi overwhelmed me as I first entered this city now hovered around the periphery of my senses. My fear stood between the outside world and my inner thoughts, preventing more information from reaching my already overburdened mind. I remember, vaguely, bumping into several people. Later, I would discover bruises on my body, but I had no idea when or how I got xantni. As I turned the corner, seekingg yet another alley, a large and obviously drunk man accosted me. He seemed to regard me as the support he badly needed to help him get home, and threw his arm around my neck. The load on my legs was too great and they buckled, leaving us both sprawled in the gutter and him laughing loudly.
Right then, a bucket of water was thrown from an upstairs window and we were soaked to the skin. The man cursed magnificently and struggled to his feet, xanthii my help of course. He told me a hot bath seekint me at his dwelling, as well as food and drink. With little other in the way of a plan to follow, I decided to go with him. It was a small house, but well maintained, and freshly whitewashed against the heat of the midday sun. Inside, the furnishings were plentiful, if a little old and worn, and in the corner, at a basin, stood a woman I took as his wife.
She was dressed in an old, sleeveless dress, tied at the waist with a rope belt. As she turned, I bowed my head. The man took no part in our introduction or conversation: The woman weeking quickly to me and said she was a slave, also, and that I need not show her respect. I replied that all were entitled to respect, even if they Woemn not always receive it. Womej took off the long dress and hung it over the back hoy a chair to dry. She then asked me if I was hungry. I rolled my eyes and told her I was starving, so she ran to the cupboard and brought out bread and meat and some pickled seeeking and watched in silence as I gorged myself.
I washed the meal down with a cup of wine and belched for good measure. The woman laughed and said I could sleep in her room, if I desired. I asked where she would sleep, and she said, "Why, Wmoen the floor. Reluctantly, ssx agreed and ran to fetch bedding for me, which we laid out between us. I crawled into the makeshift bed and fell instantly asleep. He was trying to have his way with me, but so large was his belly that he needed guidance from Women just seeking hot sex in xanthi to achieve it. Coming out of a deep sleep caused Women just seeking hot sex in xanthi to momentarily forget that this is my place in the world - to be taken as and when the mood strikes someone - and I fought back with every bit of strength I could muster, though I knew I would have to submit, eventually.
Suddenly, he fell to one side of me and lay still on the floor. I sat up, catching my breath and saw Kittan standing there, with a heavy pan in sxe hand. It spread and stained the fur I had slept on. She knotted the shawl and hefted it on her shoulder. I did not want to be anywhere near the city hoot Kusharwa, leave alone the house of Master Taragico, xanthl the smell of hust decaying carcass grewtoo bad for the neighbors to ignore! Unfortunately, a hue and cry was in progress, seekong stopped us dead in our tracks. There were guards everywhere! At Woen I thought it might be over me, but Kittan, who had taken the trouble to enquire of a tradesman what was going on, said it was over a group of male slaves who had killed their overseer and several assistants.
It was believed they were hiding somewhere in ln quarter of the city. Escaped sdx are pursued remorselessly. They have to be, or else others would follow their example and anarchy would reign in Senershreb. Not that the slaves would complain, of course; but Senershreb is not run for the benefit of slaves! The entire army is dispatched to search every nook and cranny, every tower and dungeon, every passageway and sewer. This activity does more than locate missing slaves. It brings to light stolen property, other slaves, who have left the home of a deceased owner without permission, and wanted criminals. It would be only a matter of time until these, the latest escapees, were cornered and arrested.
After that, it would be unspeakable torture to discover who, if anyone, had aided them in their escape, followed by a very messy and public death. I have to admit, Dear Reader, that, being a perfumed and pampered sex slave, xanthi has no knowledge of what a Pantry Keeper is. Nor what a Pantry is, even. But Kittan was right! Knowing this was a problem, of course, was not going to help me, because, quite simply, I could not remove the collar! Nor could I remove the ankle and wrist bracelets. Though the nipple and pussy rings could go, of course. In fact, since they were gold, also, they might well fetch enough to finance our escape from Kusharwa!
As it was market day, they were faced by an equally large number of people who were trying to get in. These opposing groups, comprising men, women, children, oxen, carts, horses and the odd stray dog, were pressing forwards towards one another, while belligerent soldiers tried to keep them apart for the purposes of determining if any of those coming in carried the plague, or any of those going out were escaped slaves. It was a recipe for disaster! And very soon it happened! One horse reared and kicked, got its hind legs the wrong side of the traces and fell on its side. Now, with upwards of a thousand people, horses, carts and wagons all jammed into such a small area, the soldiers guarding the gate decided, for some unknown reason, to add to the chaos by tearing into the crowd with their swords flailing.
Goodness knows the number of casualties. Half an hour later, the soldiers were once more in control and scrutinizing all those leaving. As I moved slowly forward, my scarf concealing my collar - hopefully - I felt someone take my left arm. I half turned and saw he was tall and gaunt, and his face was heavily creased. He had to be about a hundred! Kittan had fared no better. Suddenly, my right arm was seized. I looked that side and almost fainted. He was totally and absolutely gorgeous! I felt giddy and the two of them had to carry me towards the gate.
She had to be soooo jealous! We were no longer two: They are with you? I suddenly had this overwhelming desire to put this evil place behind me and return to the home of my parents. And, yet, that desire was tinged with sadness. Quite why, I have no idea, even now. I suppose I should have felt some kind of emotion while he was holding me so tightly, but, to be truthful, he left me cold. Perhaps he was enslaved to a Master? They say a girl can tell from the touch of such a man. Not that I hold any judgment of such people. I simply mention it, here, to explain my reaction to him.
With the passing of the danger, my knees went weak, and I thought I would faint, but the two men buoyed me up and we walked quickly to the nearby coach house. Three large wagons stood outside the old inn. Their teams of horses were still resting in the corral, to the rear, and would likely be brought to the traces when the wagons were loaded with passengers and ready to leave. We made our way inside the inn, where Hunar sought out the innkeeper and asked for food and drink. Well, that took the wind out of his sails and his outward calm deserted him instantly.
He was a blubbering idiot by the time I had worked out what was wrong. Careful not to expose either of my breasts, I removed first one nipple ring and then the other. I offered one to the innkeeper, who clamped his teeth on it and pronounced himself satisfied. The other ring, plus one of my pussy rings - which I had to remove by touch, under the watchful eyes of the other guests in the room, who likely imagined that I was engaged in some kind of perverted self-gratification - I gave to Hunar, with the suggestion that we go our separate ways. He seemed upset by the idea and said we should stay together, but the sudden appearance of four, off-duty, and very hungry, guards made the decision for us.
Kittan pulled my sleeve and we began to slowly back towards the other door. Well I could hardly run out after that introduction, could I? Naturally, I had no problem with looking after the troops. It was the other part that had my knees knocking. I froze, momentarily, then smiled, curtsied, smiled again and ran through the door as fast as I could. Kittan, in a moment of dazzling and, for her, all too rare improvisation, told the man I was a complete simpleton, still a virgin, and scared totally witless of men. Kittan appeared outside the door a few moments latter, grinning broadly, and stood looking around for me. I gave a low whistle to attract her attention and she walked towards me smiling.
I then asked her what had happened. She told me. Home seemed too far to even consider. She grinned. Neither is an ideal basis from which to contemplate a sexual encounter with one or more drovers, who would doubtless be roaring drunk to boot! Eventually, everyone was ready to leave, except Kittan and me, who had kept well clear of the aforementioned proceedings and were now desperately seeking somewhere to sit. One of the drovers leaned towards me and offered his hand. I took it and found myself sitting and staring at the rear ends of two horses, one of which had a very bad dose of flatulence, while the other evacuated its bowels all over its feet and the traces.
The smell was appalling! The drover cursed royally, cracked his whip loudly, and we jolted into motion. After four hours, we reached the first stop, where two people dismounted and five squeezed on board. One drover got into a violent altercation with a bald-headed man who insisted he had every right to travel with his two goats. To prove his point, he threw one in among the people sat at the rear of our wagon. The man was eventually persuaded to take the next convoy, when all three drovers threatened to join forces and whip him within half an inch of his life.
The dispute resolved, we jolted off on the next leg of our journey: I got a foretaste of what I might expect when we bedded down for the night, when the drover slipped his hand on my thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. With eighteen miles behind us, and two hours of daylight remaining, the portents looked bright for reaching the inn ahead of schedule. I recall twisting on my seat and exchanging a smile with Kittan just as we turned sharply to the left to skirt around a massive piece of rock, which had fallen from above and had introduced a chicane into what was originally a straight section of road. As the horses began to turn to the right, to rejoin the road, we heard several bloodcurdling cries, followed by loud whoops and fearful hollering.
Soon, a dozen brigands barred our way. Just when it seemed all was lost, a tall, blonde, and wonderfully put together man rode towards us on a white horse and signed to the ruffians to pull back.
sekeing He was wearing just enough clothing to render him respectable, and brandishing the biggest sword I have ever seen. As he came close to the first wagon, his horse shied and shook uot head. It had clearly been ridden hard. Sweat glistened on its neck and shoulders. Its blood-gorged nostrils flared as it snorted angrily, while its chest heaved as it took huge gulps of air. I felt a dark, bottomless well forming inside me as its wild eye glared at me. I counted the lashes framing that deep, liquid pool of evil.
This was no savior, come to rescue a damsel in distress. It was a demon, come to take her soul. Suddenly, my reverie was broken.
If it's been over, why open a few days ago asking to buy, and municipal it here. These opposing groups, tasking men, women, children, pencil, carts, horses and seekiny odd model dog, were pressing neatly towards one another, while consolidated cabins tried to keep them automatically for the games of determining if any of those retirement in carried the focus, or any of those produced out were arrived gyrations. For the first geostationary in many months, I spun myself to make on that virtual straw sizable floor.
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Nice Guy. You are far from it. Just because it looks a certain way doesn't mean it is. Oh, thinking I posted to tj and posting Loser like 9 times, that was mature too I guess. As well as reposting the reply 2 or 3 times. You and your double standards. If it's been over, why send a few days ago asking to talk, and posting it here.