Now with out further delay let’s find out which one of us will be the unfortunate victim.”--As the awestruck crowd watched a large punchbowl fille...d with the identification numbers of every slave in the brothel was wheeled on to the floor on a cart. Every Brothel Whore waited nervously as Brothel Madam 3397 reached into the punchbowl. Almost agonizing slowly she ruffled around until one of their identification numbers was pulled from the pot. The Brothel Whores could only wait in terror as. Rick had never had a "gay" thought or impulse in his life, but the big black cock held an incredible fascination for him, and his gaze was transfixed as he stared at the pee hole in the head of Haranga's cock, which was emerging from its hood as he stroked and the tool continued to grow. Rick's mouth was open slightly, his lips moist and slack, and without being conscious of his action, he licked his lips repeatedly, moistening them thoroughly. The young white man barely noticed when the tall. But I had zero interest in having him along as I tried on various outfits. Oh, he might, while we were dressing for a party, ask me about this tie or that belt.Now, Mr. Matt Striker was a little bit different. Or my attitude toward steering some of his clothes selection was. He was perfectly presentable, not at all nebbishy. But he could do with ... a little boost. A dash. Some style, a hint of color.He was what I’d come to think of as DC Casual. Since about nine out of ten of the local. As usual the meal was magic, and John sat with a broad grin bemused at the knowledge that Nan was going to be in his bed that night and that he was going to achieve his greatest fantasy the very next day. The meal over, while we still sat over the cheese board, Kelly told Nan that she would be “entertaining John that evening” and “swimming with them tomorrow before attending her punishment, and assisting as necessary.” To which came the reply of “thank you, mam, I will be happy to assist in any.