That should have been a clue for what happened when we returned home.I was flogged, canned, and spanked by Daddy at the dungeon. Then I was fucked by ...very master in there. A Black man, with his huge cock, even fucked my ass. They all came on me, painting me with cum. I had so many orgasms, from the pain and the pleasure, that I hit subspace. I was lost, time passing as ecstasy gripped me. I did not know hours had passed when I came out of it, my body covered in so much jizz.But I had proved. We were, mostly, on the opposite sides of the criminal justice system. Not necessarily opposed, but opposite. I think prostitution, like drugs, should be legal. Problem is, nobody seems to give a rat’s fart what I think.As I self-philosophized, young girls, young boys, came into the kitchen. To rinse something off, to get more disinfectant, clean rags. They barely glanced at the kitchen table activity. Nothing new, not to them, not with what they did for a living.Laquita though, did notice,. More

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