To his shock, it wasn’t there. He rubbed his neck in confusion and then turned to seek out Mrs. Sommers on the front porch. When he did so he caugh... his image in the full-length mirror on the closet door. Reflected back at Billie was not a scruffy long-haired surfer boy in cut-offs and a hole-ridden Sex Wax t-shirt. His hair was cut short, with a careful and neat part, a hint of oil holding it in perfect form. Instead of raggedy shorts and t-shirt, he was in creased khaki pants, a crisp white. Did they do the same thing to the slave in the cell next to me? How long had she been there, and how did they trap her? The questions fueled my lustful state just as much as the cuffs and chains that kept me on stage, and soon I had 2 more loads streaking across my face, with new men to take their place. I was too horny to count after 10 men, but several blowjobs after that, my chain was unclipped from the pole, and I was guided offstage, down into the pit of horny masked men. Teetering on the. More

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