Zu meiner Rechten stand Clorus, mein persönlicher Berater. Auch er war ein Überbleibsel aus der Zeit meines Vaters. Er war mit seinen 34 Jahren noch...relativ jung. Seine überaus festliche Kleidung die er jeden Tag zur Schau trug, und seine fettigen schwarzen zur Seite gekämmten Haare haben ihm den Spitznamen „die Schlange“ eingebracht. Und genau das war er auch. Ein schmieriger Speichellecker wie er im Buche steht. Seine Leidenschaft für das Foltern war im ganzen Land bekannt.Wieder öffnete sich. She bounced her way up from her seat. She wore skirts as short and sweaters as tight as she could get away with under the dress code, and her nipples were always poking out - boob ends showing, some guys called it, others called it "high beams." She was blond, with blue eyes, and a body that would give the Pope a hardon.She smiled at me, and her tongue danced along her luscious lips teasingly. "Look Ma, no hands," she whispered softly, grinning, her eyes flashing. I gaped as she deliberately. More

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