The tight dress was so low-cut that bending over would expose her bare ass to any onlooker. The dress was a mark of shame, a constant reminder that he...r life had less value than those around her. The final shame was a tattoo that is branded on the upper arm of all slaves. A red trio of loops. "The Slave Sigil." A permanent form of evidence that shows you where once a slave, even if one was to escape their slave leathers.Finally after a long time the stains lifted from the sheets and flowed down. Of course I was really in the dumps and moped my way slowly to the bus stop at the other end of Morecambe, just in time to see the last bus disappearing down the road, to add insult to injury it started to rain.Of course the idea of walking more than seven miles in the rain in the mood I was in didn't appeal so I set off hitch hiking, of course back then cars weren't as common as they are now and luck was something you needed. After half an hour I hadn't gone that far the rain had got heavier. I again slowed down and told her have patience & got up. I pulled out the pillows threw them and pulled her toward me and raised both her legs and held them high straight with the held of my body widened her legs and inserted again, this insertion was painful she almost cried in pain and said papu, slowly pls, this is hurting, I said enjoy the pain bitch and started to pump her with all my force and might,she was screaming, bastard slowly, slowly pls pls, its very painful, uff, mama, mama,. “Well, that’s that,” she told me, which disappointed mebecause I wanted this haircut to last forever.She removed the drape in a way she never did before, andsome hair fell down all over my crotch. She looked.“I can’t believe I did that. I hope it doesn’t affect mytip,” she said.“Depends on how well you clean it up,” I replied. She gave me a smile, reached down and picked the hairoff my crotch. She then brushed my crotch with her handand.