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She knew fear, but not much else.Her memory became clearer as time passed, and she remembered many things she wished that she could forget. She rememb...red cruel faces, harsh voices, slaps and kicks and curses whenever she made a noise and the beatings when she dared to cry out loud. She remembered being forced into a dark closet, kept there for days, living in her own filth but happier to suffer in silence than to face what waited outside.Though she didn’t know it, she had been born Christina. There she selected a cookbook from a shelf and opened it on the table, it was stained with spatters of sauces and dough. She had always liked cooking but none-the-less was looking forward to the time when her slave’s training had progressed to the stage where she would do all work like that. After reading through a recipe she went to the kitchen cupboards and began to select ingredients.Several hours later the slave slowly surfaced. At first she drifted in and out of consciousness able to see. Every curve of her body is fine and diligently designed that when she wears salwar-suit people stop to see her, heartbeat stop and you start to breathe heavily, a dying man will come to life seeing her Beaty. My Mehek is so damned beautiful.You must be thinking if I have such love for her then why we got apart and why didn’t I had any contacts with her. For that, it’s complicated and doesn’t want to disclose my love story here.After my meeting got over I sent her a text, I am free with a fear. After the car was gone I tried to take him back in my mouth but he made me get up. He pressed his body against mine pinning me to the car, our erections rubbed together. “Stay,” he commanded then walked back to his patrol car. He turned of the blue lights and came back to where I was standing. Grabbing me by the arm he pushed me into the woods. It was dark and spooky in there, but I was so horny that I didn’t care. All I could think about was having his cock in my mouth again. We walked far.
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