I now knew why no one could describe her. I'll try but it won't bring across the pure wild animal aura she had. She was dressed in all black, from her... calf high boots to her tight leather riding pants, then up to a buttoned, leather vest, straining to hold in her magnificent breasts but failing somewhat as there was an abundance overflowing its grip. Her unkempt coal black hair, with just a slight curl, was one of her most striking features, quite long, and forming a shoulder wide halo around. Deciding I'd find out what was going on soon enough, I settled into myseat and, after a little guidance as to what format the data was to take, Istarted working. We were using WordPerfect, which was fine with me; I'd beenworking with it on my own computer for months and I knew it inside and out. After I'd typed in a couple of pages of text, I pulled up a page using the"View Document" feature to see if the columns I'd set up were formattedproperly. This caught Vicki's attention and she came. In his quest to provide clarity, his words would not be analysed syllable-by-syllable and weighed by the intonation of their delivery. “I guess that I’ve been holding out for a girl like you. I mean, erm, I’m twenty three. It’s always constant source of comment from my folks that I’ve never had a ‘serious’ girlfriend.” His discombobulated brain forgot that framing words with his fingers was somewhat vapid; the importance of getting his point across superseded that. He knew he was way outside. ? Help him get dressed andreport for duty in 10 minuets? bellowed Mary.?I don?t understand what?s going on? I stammered.Stunned, I listened as Mike told me that for the past week, he and the other 2 men had been forced to dress as Maids each night and serve their wives and the black men.?Its been like a nightmare, the black men pick on attractive married white women, who?s husbands have small cocks.They turn the white women into their sluts and force the husbands to become sissy Maids?.