We lived in a nice house and always had plenty of stuff. She was an attractive woman, at least in most of my memories; I didn't keep a picture of her.... Most of the men she dragged home were neither nice nor attractive. She liked slobs. I never knew who would show up for breakfast, or how many. Most of them scared the shit out of me, or shamed me. I do remember one man who hung around for almost a whole school year. I was in seventh grade and he wasn't a bad male role model. They'd met at a. My uniform, if you could call it that, was my old gym gear and an apron, and I was covered in sweat and animal fat all day. My only breaks were when my brothers visited, which was often, the owner gave them all the time they needed. See, they'd enjoyed the fucking they'd given me far too much, and decided that dicking their kid bro should be a regular thing. They made me take off the rest of my hair with the cream, which also kept me hard and horny all the time, although I wasn't allowed to. Your chambers.The walk to the ceremonial hall was brief, and your hear the supportive thump of feet stomping in rhythm as you enter. Your eyes narrow, scanning the sea of faces, each wreathed in a dark purple hood. A pedestal rises from the center of the chamber, and Filistria, the current Grand Warlock, stands beside the blood-stained altar. You stride up the stairs to meet her, the sea of faces chanting Abyssal scriptures to either side. At last you reach the top and stand before her. The. Mijn vriendin vraagt of we wat te drinken willen en ze haalt vervolgens een fles Bacardi, Wodka en een fles met Cola. Na een tijdje waren beide flessen half opgedronken en ging ik naar de WC. Toen ik terugkwam zat Gerwin opeens naast mijn vriendin Stephanie en ze waren aan het praten. Ik ging toen maar naast Maurice zitten (Ik ken hem toch al) en begon met hem te praten.Inmiddels is het bijna 12.00. De champagne wordt klaargezet, waarna even later het aftellen begint. Daarna proosten we en.