“Were you recording me when I was sold as a slave in Darkhla?”Instead of replying, the Praetor simply dumped the memories into Béla’s mind:She ...tood on the platform, gazing out at the crowd, disinterested in the going’s on that surrounded her. The silken cords binding her wrists indicated she was a pleasure slave, not a work slave, but Bibi didn’t care. She could work or she could fuck. Her master was dead, and nothing mattered anymore.Bibi knew her depression would pass – it always did. But. Shelly seemed to be trying to get away from me at this point. Suddenly she stopped at the door and turned to me. “How? Really how could you watch? Dad would know” “Not if you helped,” I said. “Where? How?” she asked. “Here!” I said, “Right in here.” We were standing next to the bed in which he had apparently done “it” with her maybe a hundred times. “I could hide in there,” I said pointing back to the closet. “No way,” said Shelly, “He’d see you.” At this point I. More

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