The Woman From Oman free porn video

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Editor's note: I wish to pay tribute to the wonderful Throne and the terrific C.C. (or is it the other way around?) for their fine stories.Throne wrote Lost in a Harem. C.C. wrote The Slave Market. I have read both several times, along with Sheena Sands' Dave the Harem Slave, It's fair to say these stories of lost freedom make me swoon. So I took a shot at a harem story myself. I hope you will enjoy. Oman is real. The khanith are real. Muscat and old Muscat are real. Indulge me the rest, please. C The Woman from Oman By Cassandra Morgan Hot. My God, it was bloody hot. It was clay oven hot. It was a birds sweating hot. It was gagging, car- exhaust hot. It was Lucifer-by-the-pool hot. We de-boarded the airplane at Muscat International, and I wanted to turn around and fly right back to England. It was oppressive. It was hot enough so the camels would bitch about the heat. It was hot. I left the plane, and already, I felt awkward. I was wearing a long black robe, a bukka, with dashes of red in it. There was a jewel on the chest. Amir, the head of our delegation, had told me that this was proper attire fo a young man in Oman. But around me, others seemed to be dressed more conservatively. Most of the men seemed to be wearing white robes. Some of them were in business suits. I walked, and people stood and stared. They spoke Arabic, or a language known as belochi. Clearly, I was as much of an oddity to them as they were to me. I suppose they had not seen a pale man before. We were here on a press junket from Today in London, a weekly news- magazine. As I understood it, Oman was trying to expand its tourist base, and so, for once, they were reaching out to the Western Press. We had come to do a photo essay on the country, a small country at the mouth of the Arabian Sea that was surrounded by Saudi Arabia, Yemen and the United Arab Emirates. Across the sea is Iran. "Welcome to my country," Amir said. "We are not Lawrence of Arabia. We are not Aladdin. We are a modern nation." He smiled and bowed. He was a medium sized man with a toothy grin. "We are the 70th most aggressive nation in the world," he said. "We are peaceful. No terrorism here. We are here to display our beaches and our mountains. We are a lovely country. You will see." This, of course, was the beginning of the hard sell. Any journalist will tell you about it. These people weren't oppressed; they were hard- working. Those women weren't without rights; they were faithful. It wasn't really hot outside; it was temperate. Camels didn't smell; they were wonderful creatures. And so forth. The thing is, Oman is one of the more welcoming of the Gulf states. It's a smallish country (4.6 million) under the rule of Sultan Qaboos Bin Said. It's a former Portuguese Colony that is a big fishing community. We moved through the airport, and the shops were lively. Coffee. Wares. Dates. Yeah, this could be a fun excursion. I glanced at Valerie, the lead writer of our group. She grinned at me with a mysterious smile. A group of children approached me and tugged on my bukka. "I think they like me," I said. "Well, they certainly think your attractive," Val said. I looked at her. I kept walking. Nearby, a woman pointed at me and whispered to her son. "Amir...Amir," I said, getting his attention. "Why are these people staring at me?" He grinned. "They're just most friendly," he said. "Write that down." "I'm the photographer," I said. "Val's the writer." He grinned. "Pictures would be nice," he said. "You could be a centerfold." I stopped. "Could you please tell me what's going on?" I said. "Oh, Sammy," he said. "I'm afraid a joke has been played upon you. That's, well, that's a woman's bukka that you're wearing." Val burst out laughing. "But you're very pretty," she said. "Oh, my God," I sputtered. "You didn't." Across the way, two soldiers looked at me. They laughed. "You see," Amir said. "Life is better here in Oman. We have laws against a man imitating a woman, against a man lying with another man. But no one has bothered you, have they? As long as you don't cause a commotion, I think even khanniths will be okay. You might even get a date. Now come along, my lady." I rushed toward the men's room to change. "Stop," Amir said. "You do not want to wear women's clothing into the men's room. The men there may not understand." I nodded. "Where can I go?" I said. "I have to get out of these clothes." "They look nice on you," Amir said. "Do not bring attention to yourself, Sammy. Just get into a car in our caravan. What is it you English say? Do not get your panties into a wad." Val laughed loudest of anyone. "You look hot," she said. "And not just because it's 102 degrees." * * Later, at the hotel's reception welcoming us, the ribbing continued. We moved around the grand ballroom, snacking on local seafood. There was even alcohol, even though I read there wouldn't be. A big man with a shaved head saw me and smiled. "Hello, mademoiselle," he said. "I am Jabar. You're looking lovely." "Ha ha," I said. "I was tricked." "Were you?" he said. "And perhaps the wind of destiny blew across you." "What do you mean," I said. "I mean that perhaps you are supposed to be in women's clothes," he said. "Perhaps you are khanith." "I'm sorry. I don't know that term." "It is a man who functions as a woman," he said. "Some call them Khawal. Or bacha bazi. You know. Alternate lifestyles." "I ... I thought being gay or trans was forbidden here," I said. "My travel guide said it was illegal." "It is. And yet, it exists. There are thousands of transgender women here. It is a part of nature. They just learn to keep a low profile in our culture. You will find your own kind." "But I'm not.." "As you say. But the Sultan has given you permission to dress as a woman for as long as you are part of your entourage. If he says you are to be accepted, it is done." He bled into the crowd. As he left, he winked at me. He smiled. As he left, Val came up. "You still mad at me, Samantha?" "I'm not Samantha, damn it," I said. "Ooooh," she said. "Time of the month?" "Please stop," I said. "We're in a third-world country where being transgendered is a crime, and you think it's acceptable to put me into women's clothing? It's not funny." "Oh, it's a little funny," she said. "Just think how cute you'd look with a little eyeliner underneath your shayla." She was still laughing when Amir approached us. He looked serious. "Sammy...can we talk for a minute?" He pulled me into the hallway. "Sammy, we have a problem," he said. "A problem?" "I'm afraid so. The authorities have just informed us. Sammy, they think you're a real khanith. A cross-dresser. They have designated you that way. It means you should dress as a female, but you cannot leave your hotel. It's kind of like diplomatic immunity. The anti-transgender laws do not apply to you." "I don't need immunity, Amir. I don't dress as a woman." "Well, you'll have to. For a few days, anyway. Local dress or western, it's your choice. But for a few days, you have to be female, or there will be hell to pay. It would cause the Sultan to lose face if he bent a law and you refused to take advantage. They'll decide you're CIA. They always decide unwanted visitors are CIA. You'll be locked away for a very, very long time." "Can't you explain that this was just a gag?" "Oh, certainly. The Omani police are known for their grand senses of humor," he said. "Listen, this is something you are being allowed to do by the Sultan and his people. He is the law. And if he grants you permission to be khanith, then that's what you will be. I slumped. "But who will shoot photos for our magazine?" "Freelancers," Amir said. "There are always freelancers." "Christ!" I said. "Not around here," Amir said. * * * The next morning, I was lying around my hotel room in khakis and a t- shirt when Amir came by. "No, no, Sarafina," he said. "You must dress properly. As a woman. The Omani police will be checking." "Checking what? Being trans is illegal, so I'm doing something legal. They're going to roust me for that?" "It is a distinctive monarchy, Sarafina," he said. "Who is Sarafina?" He smiled. "You are, my lady. Do you not like your new name?" "I'm Sammy." "Sarafina is an Islamic name," he said. "It means burning fire. Like the desert. Like your eyes. It suits you." "Call me what you want," I said, annoyed. "I just want out of this sandbox and away from Ahab the fucking Arab." He smiled. "The sheik of the burning sand." "You know that song?" "It was very popular when we were children," he said. "He had a camel named Clyde." 'For crying out loud," I said. "This dump has never heard of ice cubes, but it's heard of Ahab the Arab." "We have culture," he said, proudly. He handed me a skirt and a blouse, Western style. I grabbed them from his hand. "Your shoes are in the closet," he said. The blouse was white silk. The skirt was blue. The heels were blue. I rolled my eyes. Amir handed me mascara. This was absurd. I was being forced to perform an illegal activity under threat of the law. Did this strike anyone else as odd? It was like traveling the American West and being told that stage-robbing was a crime, and therefore, you are required to rob stagecoaches. That night, we had a government reception in honor of our story production. I wore a long black dress and a blonde wig. Black heels and makeup. I felt like a clown. One by one, I was introduced to the male dignitaries in the crowd. Some of them wore the white Bukkas. Some wore military-style jackets, all adorned with ribbons. Amir escorted me around the room, my hands folded around his bicep. I was Sarafina, but I felt like Scarlett O'Hara. At one point, I looked across the room. There was Jabar. He tipped his hat toward me. I nodded and continued to move around the room. "Well, aren't you a vision?" a voice said. I looked up. It was Val. "Are you going to ride my ass a little more?" I said. "Well, do you have a strap-on?" she said, giggling. "Stop it." "Oh, I'm just teasing my sister," she said. "You seem to be very popular with the men. Make sure you bring condoms." I sighed. "Val," I said. "This isn't my doing." She leaned in. "Ever been fucked on a beach of the Arabian Sea?" said whispered. "You'll like it." Then she smiled and walked away. * * * The next day, the clothing felt better. And the day after. And the day after that. It was logical. The finest clothes, from the finest fabrics, were women's clothes. They fit better than men's clothing. They looked better. And so it was natural that my comfort level grew. I had never dressed in girls' clothes growing up, but I began to remember the look of my sister's prom dress, of my mother's dancing dress. Yes, I had been tempted. And heels? I loved heels from the start. I loved the extra height they gave me. I loved the shape they gave my legs. I liked underwear. I liked dresses more than skirts. I liked hose. "Perhaps," Amir said to me one day, "you should apply for work at the hotel." "As what?" "They have cleaning ladies. They import them from Nigeria and the Philippines. You could break up your boredom by getting work. They have the prettiest uniforms." "Fuck that," I said. "I'm a lousy cleaner." "You can improve," he said. "Our maids find extra motivation." "No thank you," I said. But that afternoon, I passed a maid's cart in the hallway. I looked at saw a dark-skinned maid at work. I smiled. Something for a rainy day, I thought. One day, when I was trying to watch "Cheers" in Arabic, the telephone rang. I answered, wondering if the line might be bugged. I had read that they often are. "Hello," I said. "Sarafina?" the voice said. "Sarafina, this is Jabar. The bald man you have seen at parties." "Oh, yes. Jabar. Can I help you?" "Oh, yes," he said. "Sarafina, there is a party on Saturday night. Many Khanith. Much alcohol. I thought of you. Would you like to be among your own kind? Come with me. Allow me to be your escort." "I'm not..." I started, and then I stopped. Maybe I was. "Sorry?" "I mean, I'm not allowed to leave the hotel. The police seemed very strict on that." "Ah, guidelines, not laws," he said. "There will be others at this party. Please come." "I shouldn't." "Yes, Sarafina. You should. It will not be complete without you." "Are you sure I'll be okay?" "What could happen?" Jabar said. And so I agreed to go to a party at an apartment near the airport. Jabar was going to send a car. Finally, I was getting out of this hotel jail. But I would wish I had not. * * On Saturday, I was wearing a red a-line dress and matching heels. My hair was covered by a short, sassy wig. I had on full makeup. And I left as the stars twinkled above. It really is a pretty country, Oman. There are buildings with the swirling domes of the Middle East beside a smaller adobe house near the ocean across from a mountain. The full moon shone down. We were not far from the Wada Ghul, Oman's Grand Canyon. The Nakal isn't far away. There is old town, with its twin spires. I wondered about the music I would hear. Was it the wailing of the Marketplace, where customers waited to have a section of eel lopped off by the butcher? Was it British rock? Was it rap, which was conquering the world? The car rode for miles. Finally, it pulled up next to a modern apartment building. The driver pointed to door 3A. I knocked. Instead, the Beatles were playing. Figures. A lot of women were dancing, some of whom didn't look quite like women. There were hard looking men chatting them up. Jabar came over and kissed my hand. "Lovely Sarafina," he said. "Dance with me." We started to sway to the Western music. I felt extremely feminine as a trans woman at a trans party. I felt pretty. And then all hell broke loose. Suddenly, the door gave way, and there were men shouting, and women screaming and running. I grabbed Jabar's hand, but my grip was pulled away. Two Omani policemen had me then, and they were physically carrying me toward a police van. They threw me in the back of it with two other women. It was odd that only the women were being arrested. The policemen kept. yelling at us, but I couldn't make out a phrase. I tugged at my dress, trying to find some modesty in the situation. One policeman turned to the other. "Homosexual," he said. "Khanith." If this was England, we would wait to be charged and assigned a solicitor. We would get quick justice. Instead, we were thrown into a cell that smelled like a dungeon from the Crusades. I think I stepped into Robin Hood's pee. There was no lawyer, no charges. There was just us, behind iron bars. It was lonely and empty and cruel. I'm not sure how long we were there. Days, certainly. My dress was filthy by the end, and I smelled. I kept trying to talk to the guards, but no one spoke my language. I was one miserable Khanith, that's for sure. Finally, after about a week, I had a captor who spoke broken English. "Help me," I pled. "You are khanith," he said. "You may die." Die? Me? For wearing a dress I didn't even want to wear? "You are CIA," he said. "CIA spies must die." "I'm not CIA," I said. "I'm a photographer." "You are spy," he said. "James Bond. You shoot pictures that the Sultan would not want published." "No," I said. "I shoot vacation shots that he wants published." "You are homosexual," he said. "You and that one suck each others cocks," I looked at Ghalara, my cell mate, "We do not," I said. "We are Khanith. Not homosexual." "You will not suck my cock?" "I will," Ghalara said. "I want to." "Ha," the guard said. "You are cheth." "Please, sir. Can. you call Amir Rhaghani at the Hotel Muscat? Can you tell him I am in jail awaiting trial?" "There will be no trial for you," the guard said. "No trial?" He smiled. "No," he said. "You will go to the slave market in old Muscat, the ancient city. You will fetch a nice price. Homosexuals are very popular as slaves." I collapsed, the tears filling my eyes. * * It was a perverse way of doing business, but once we had been identified as slaves, our treatment became much better. We were fed regularly. We had dental checkups. We had salon workers come in to see if we were worth bidding on. The better shape we were in, the higher price we would draw. We wore skimpy outfits, not quite Harem outfits, but close. Anything to remind us we were chattel. There was a price tag on us. They shot my lips with collagen. They had my makeup tattooed on. They pierced both ears and my navel. They taught me to belly dance. They bought me a chastity belt; the winning bidder would get the key. One day, the head jailer put a needle into my neck. My world went dark. When I awoke, I had a lovely set of breasts. Overnight, I had been given implants. I was warned the winning bidder might want them to be bigger. In the middle of each day, businessmen would come by our cell. They would reach out and squeeze my breasts. They would check my teeth as if I was a racehorse. They would fondle my cage. It was demeaning, as if I were a prize cow to be sold. Young men would stop by. Old men. One old woman. "Can she cook?" one man asked. "Yes. Yes. She fine cook. Will feed you." "Does she clean?" "Yes, yes. She will keep your home spotless." "Is she sexy Khanith?"' "Yes. Yes. She is vixen in the bed. You will see. Blowjobs every morning." "Can I try sample?" "No, no. You must purchase first. No one rides someone else's horse until it wears their saddle." The feeling was hopeless. Perhaps most people believe they can imagine slavery, but they cannot. Can you imagine the indignity of being someone else's property? Of having them attach a leash to your collar and lead you around. Can you imagine their probing hands over your body? Can you imagine eating off the floor because your slave master wants a bidder to see you grovel? Damn it, I was not a slave. I was a free Englishman, born of a nation that had conquered the world. But every day, I became more and more of a slave. The guards abused us. Of course they did. They told the bidders that we were to be left alone, that we were virgins for sale. But our lovemaking skills needed work, too. They seemed to like buttsex even more than blowjobs, even thought we got a mouthful daily. Hell, we were slaves. What we were going to do? Complain to the union? Frankly, I began to enjoy it. I don't know Maybe I was bisexual all along. Maybe my mind was warped from captivity. But I surrendered to these bronzed men. I kneeled for them, opened my mouth for them, lifted my ass for them. I went from allowing it to wanting it, from wanting it to begging for it. I loved the shape of a cock, the bulbous head and the veined shaft and the way it became hard in your hands. I was sure that if some day I was freed, I would still pursue men. I would be a street whore. Yes, I learned. They had those in Oman, too. They had all vices; it was all just cloaked. Most days, I stared at the floor for hours. (There was no window). But after several months of this, I glanced up, and there was Amir. My old friend. I rushed to the bars. "Thank heaven," I said. "I'm glad to see you." "Hello, Sarafina," he said. "It's...it's Sammy," I said. He smiled. "You're looking well, Sarafina," he said. "You're very lovely. I'm sure no one could tell that you're Khanith." "Amir...I thought slaving was over." He smiled. "There are always slaves," he said. "All over the gulf. All over the world. There are always Harems. Look at Utah in your United States. They have polygamy. Is there a difference between a man with three wives and a Harem owner? Again, it's something we don't talk about. It just is." "But I'm not Omani." "It doesn't matter when it comes to slavery, Sarafina. You're young. You're strong. You'll do well." "Amir...what about Val. Does she know?" He smiled. "Val has gone back to England, Sarafina. Photographers come, photographers go. You are just a page in her calendar. On the other hand, you will be a woman from Oman. A queen of the desert. You will join a rich man's harem, and the oil profits will keep you in grapes for years. You will be a slave, but you will be well off." "No, Amir. Please." "Ah, lovely Sarafina. I wish I could bid on you myself. You would please me with your ass." "Be joking. Please be joking." He laughed. "You were a fine woman to mold, Sarafina," he said. "So you know, it was me who set up your airport stroll in a woman's bukka. It was me who convinced the Sultan's people to give you permission to wear dresses. It was me who had the cops raid your party. You were a slave girl from the time you boarded the plane at Heathrow. Oh, I wish I could be there when your new owner fucks your ass, Sarafina. You will squeal in a most delightful way. "It isn't money, Sarafina. It is the power of the will. It is being a true Master. It is taking this young knanith and giving him breasts to swing in the heat." I looked over. The guard was laughing. Everyone admires power. Most of us admire manipulation. We love nature films where a lion eats a gazelle; who ever cheers for the gazelle? * * It was a long time later, I don't know how long, that they came for us. They put a leash on Ghalara, and then on me, and then on Sapphire. They led us through old town to a makeshift stage. A crowd gathered, some to watch, some to bid. Gjallara fetched 3400 rial. She seemed pleased. A gray-haired man with a long bid won her. The crowd applauded him. And then I was up. The slave master had me turn. He had me lift my arms. He opened my shirt. And then the crowd was chanting and bidding. I heard vague terms I had come to know. Khanith. CIA. English. London. Blowjob. Pussy. The crowd was in a frenzy now, bidding and shouting and laughing. I think the fact that I was white helped me. I was young. I was healthy. My breasts looked good. My ass. A dark-haired man was the most spirited bidder. I tried to imagine belonging to him. A gray haired man bid twice, then bowed out. A balding man took the lead. I felt fear, and desperation, and remorse with every person who would bid. I didn't want any of them. Finally, a voice rang out. I turned my head, and I saw the skin from his head shine in the lights. Jabar! What the hell was he doing here. He bid $3400 rial. I was his. He owned me. I was a house or a car or a boat. I was property. He could tell me when to wake, when to sleep, when to go to the bathroom. He could order me to have sex with him. Or with his friends. Or with anyone he owed five rial to. A half-hour later, Jabar came and collected me. He led me on a leash through the Casbah, and the women and children hooting and laughed. He took me to the blacksmith's, and a heavy ankle chain was attached to my leg. He put me in the back of his Volvo, and he began to drive us away. He stopped at a large house on the outskirts of town. Two other women ran out. They embraced him. They jabbered at me, smiling and motioning me toward the house. One of the women was Aza. The other was Dalia. They were Jabar's wives, his harem. They were also khanith, like me. The language was a hard barrier, but Dalia had been khanith all of her lives. Aza had come out in college. Both of them had played a dangerous game, being trans in a middle eastern nation, an Islamic nation. I made it because I had permission from the government. But neither of my new sister wives had that. Jabar, it turns out, had an affinity for girls like us. All three members of his harem were trans. I knew enough that I knew he needed to keep a low profile in his life. That might, he asked me to his chambers. He had me feed him, and then dance for him. He smiled. He stood and removed his clothing. He motioned to me. Look, it wasn't because I was his slave. It wasn't because I was wearing a dress. It wasn't because I had been through hell for the last year. But I submissively sank to my knees, and I took him into my mouth. He was a strong Omani man with a good teeth and a flat stomach and bulging shoulders. A girl could do worse. I loved it when his cock spewed forth. I liked buzzing him. I liked it when Aza and Dalia came in and began to stroke us both. It was nice. Dalia kissed Aza, and Jabar kissed me, and w were a tangle of arms and legs. Three khanith and a strong, sweet man who took care of us all....and who let us take care of each other. Technically, it was slavery. But we were fed and cared for. Where else were we going to go? Across the sands? Ana was the younger of the two, perhaps 19. She had dressed as a daughter for most of her life. She was pretty and funny and had splendid lips. Dalia was darker. She was a slave from Gabon. She was trans, but she had married a lawyer until she was abducted. Then there was me. Together we sang. We kissed. We loved. No, for the first time since I left London, I belonged. I felt at home. * * * I probably never would have had the chance to be released if Amir had not been caught trying to sell a man into slavery back in London. The man's wife wanted him dead, but Amir liked being a slave trader. As it turned out, the wife was an undercover cop. Amir faced a very very long sentence. So he squealed, and one of the things he gave up was his activity on the Omani market. He had sold eight of us, it turned out, young men who had vanished, who would not be missed after a week. The men in suits came to Jabar's home on a Thursday, acting like liberators. They told me to pack a bag, that I was going home to England. But was England still my home? I was of Oman now. I wore the traditional clothing, Hijabs and bucks and abayas. I cleaned and I cooked and I tended to a small garden behind our home. Jabar was with the men. "It is time for you to go, Sarafina," he said. "I do not wish to go, my husband," I said. "We are not married, girl," he said. "You know that." "In my heart, I am married," I said. "All of England waits. The queen is getting old," he said. I smiled. "Aza and Darla would miss me, and I them," I said. "Sarafina, these men will arrest me for owning slaves," he said. "You must go." "Who is a slave? I am merely a wife tending to her family. I live here." "Lady," one of the men said. "It's okay. No one will hurt you. You don't have to be a slave anymore." "Is that camel a slave? Does he think of himself that way? Is that goat a slave. No. They merely live here, because people are kind to them. Jabar is my husband. Allah has decreed it. Now go. You do not take a woman from her home. Now, that would be slavery." Eventually, the two men gave up trying. I wanted them to. I turned my head, not even wanting to watch as they drove away. What is freedom? It is the ability to choose. Well, I had chosen. There was no place in England I wanted to be. No place away from Jabar that I wanted to live. A slave? That is just a label. I was a woman who had a family who loved her. To me, that was why the moon hung in the sky. (c) copyright 2019 Cassandra Morgan

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A REFLECTION OF BATWOMAN TO HER SISTER ALICE Belinda She is a fan of the TV series "Batwoman." Eagerly awaited the first episode and even with the previews wonder who would play Batwoman. In later previews, becoming aware of the other characters; one character she remembers from watching the movie "Enigma." The additional character she remembers in the previews is Alice. Batwoman and Alice seem to strike a special reflection with her. She could tell...

2 years ago
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The Blackmail of a Congresswoman

He took a few more steps quietly down the stairs and that’s when he saw someone’s shadow move near the entrance to the kitchen. With the nimble dexterity of a cat and the shotgun and his eyes both pointed and fixed at the kitchen entrance, John finished the stairs quickly and daintily walked out into the middle of the living room. Just then, a dark figure leapt up out of the darkness from the side of the couch and grabbed the gun’s barrel from him and pointed it up. The gun discharged into the...

2 years ago
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The Adventures of a Blackwoman

Blackwoman drove down the rich suburban neighborhood till she heard what she waited for. There was a dispute going on at the house down the road where a black maid was getting chewed out by a white woman for not cleaning the dishes clean. It was her cue to that the situation needed correction. She turned down the road and parked in the driveway and got out. She loved every moment of this. It was her destiny in life. Arriving at the door, she knocked, and the door opened. The maid was standing...

4 years ago
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The Tales of Megawoman

Five years ago, Joanna DiSanto was a normal business woman on her way home after a busy day at work. As she was walking along, an old woman bumped into her and told her that she would go on to change the world, Joanna just shook her head and kept walking to her studio apartment. Suddenly she became aware of squealing brakes behind her, she moved as fast as she could in her high heels and was able to get out of the way of the tanker before it smashed into her, but she wasn't so lucky with the...

2 years ago
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Carruthers Bride

The the wind howled around the quayside as I stepped onto terra firma for the first time in weeks, the wind threw sharp shards of ice to sting our faces as we looked up at the sails as they were finally furled and stowed as our captain grinned at our discomfiture, "Au revoir!" he joked as if he knew we should soon be recalled. Those such as were left, and we were few enough, I shuddered. My best uniform packed securely in my Valise, awaited me, and just a few more duties before I...

3 years ago
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Being Treys Wingwoman

"Fuck it; you've had your ten minutes," I whined, pushing the shower door open."Mom, come on, I'm in here, can't you wait your turn?" he griped, peeking at me."What, you've seen me naked, both while being on top of me and on the bottom too. You're gonna take all the hot water too," I mentioned, getting in front of him. "So, you're going to share.""Fine, Mom," he moaned.I giggled and let my hair get wet. "Will you wash my hair for me, son?""Sure, Mom."A few seconds later, I...

Incest
3 years ago
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C is for Camerawoman

"I didn't watch that particular video. I am pretty sure it was yours, though.""There are many available on the internet, Honey. Different days, different camera angles."As the tintinnabulation of coin jingles and slot machine jangles harmonized around us, I observed the woman eating lunch with me at our table in the sandwich market. She was clearly abashed about her online activities."Barb, I think it's cool."She blinked at me, her wavy, red tresses framing her beige cheeks. "You...

Masturbation
4 years ago
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Linda the hottest sportswoman

This story begins one day of the month of June. I remember that I left work at the hospital and went to the park. There I sat on a bench that was near a small lake. It was a little hot, and I needed to disconnect a bit from the difficult day of work I had had. While breathing fresh air, I looked at the sky and saw the sun fall, -It was beginning to get dark- I feel a very strong cry from a lady. I stop, look back and see a lady on the floor. I approach very fast. When he saw that delicate face,...

2 years ago
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SuperWoMan

Based on an idea by Scrambler "J" SuperWoMan By Roy Del Frink FROM THE DESK OF CARLA KENT, AUGUST 18, 1985: It all began on the far-away planet Krypton. A scientist named Jor-El had been studying the recent disturbances in his home planet's ecosystem, and came to one horrible but unavoidable conclusion: Krypton was doomed. After a series of massive tectonic disturbances (i.e., Krypton-quakes), it was going to blow up in a matter of days, and all its inhabitants would go with...

3 years ago
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Womannequin

preface; Although this story may sound like an attempt at actual literature, I assure you it's sole purpose is to hopefully get someone turned on enough to, uh , well, use your imagination, I did. It is a story unlike any other that I have stumbled upon so far thruought my readings across many websites. So if any of it sounds familiar, well thats just luck. What makes a day seem different than any other? Nothing? I mean every so often something serious or life altering happens,...

4 years ago
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my neighborwoman

It is now over three years since she moved in in the neighbor house together with her 20 years old daughter Cindy. Rita was an attractive woman with c-cup breasts and a sexy ass. Cindy had big tits too and she and her mom did not mind when seen naked or dresses in just their undies. Well, there was much lovely to see and ever since I confessed Rita my sexual love for panties, bras and pads she was quite open to me about those things and even told me when she or Cindy had their days and using...

3 years ago
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Curse of the Werewoman

The bar was full of the smoke and noise of people happily celebrating the end of the work week. Sitting at the end of the bar was Alex, who was more than happy to spend his Friday night as far away from the cheery, happy people of the pub and as close as possible to a bottle of booze. "Hey there stranger," said a voice from behind. "Is that seat taken?" Turning around to the source of the sound he finds a slender woman with fiery red hair, legs that seemed to go for days, and a face...

2 years ago
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Emancipation of Womankind

Emancipation of Womankind The emancipation of womankind began in the early twentieth century when women gained the vote, by the end of the century they were the majority of university students and were well represented in parliament. By the middle of the twenty-first century, with women firmly the majority in parliament and a woman president, the first castration laws were passed for rapist. At first these were chemical in nature, but after some cases of men reversing the process...

3 years ago
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Ariel the Hitwoman

Hitwoman. Ariel the Hitwoman. By GabbyLez ([email protected]) Story Codes: F/F, F+/F, violent, snuff, nec, urination, scat, humiliation, lingerie, toys, BDSM. Summary: Ariel is a glamorous hitwoman, addicted to money, kinky sex and haute couture. She is also a vicious sadist.  Part 1. Ariel and Olga. 1. Ariel examined her voluptuous body in the three way mirror. She was fresh from her perfumed bath. Her silky skin was rubbed with scented oils and lotions; her nipples were tingling from...

3 years ago
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My Favorte Newswoman

My Favorite Newswoman By Screwdriver Chapter One I was watching TV one morning to catch up on the news when I spotted oneof the pretest women on the news. I was so engrossed watching her that I forgetabout the news. Right then I knew that I had to find out more about her. I would set my alarmso I could be awake when she was doing the news .I wanted to learn more abouther. I talked to some people I knew to see what they could find out. I thoughtI would keep a close eye on her to get an idea...

2 years ago
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Superwoman

It was the same routine every single day. I'd get up at the crack of dawn to finish the laundry, cook breakfast, iron my husband's business shirts and finish any other unfinished business around the home. I did it all. I was a stay at home mother for twelve years now. I was 38 at the time and I had three children, Josh 17, Emily 10 and Kevin who was 7. My husband Michael was a hard working businessman who hadn't bothered to ask me if I wanted sex for over a year now. He was always busy...

1 year ago
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Hardsaleswoman

I busied herself with my morning choirs, dusting, vacuuming, ironing, everything usual for a Tuesday. I brushed my hair; it had dried in to its normal bouncy curls. As I filled the kettle my decision of the day was trying to decide whether to take off my skirt and wash it, it was a little dirty and there were two buttons that needed replacing and my strapy top had some marks on it, I mussed on this monumental problem as I plugged in the kettle and got my cup ready, as I thought to myself do I...

4 years ago
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Terri Clark Becomes a Horsewoman

Country Music Star Terri Clark was sitting in her den in her Nashville home trying to figure out what she wanted to do with the next couple of weeks. She didn't have to be in the studio because her tour didn't start till Nov. and she wasn't scheduled for a TV appearance for two weeks. She was reflecting on her hectic life. She was a girl that loved to have fun, enjoyed her fans and loved performing, but it was a rough life for close friends or any kind of love life other then one night...

3 years ago
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Rebel 1777Chapter 68 Gentlewoman

The woman looked at the note I gave her, then looked at me, twitched her nose and looked at the note again. Her home was a large, wooden farmhouse with several ells and many outbuildings near the river that I had been taught was called something like Skoolkull. "You are," she said at last, folding my note into her pocket of her apron, "the largest, smelliest, dirtiest man I have seen in a long time. If you will go wash yourself, and your clothes as well, and your hair, lord help us, how...

1 year ago
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Riot squad humiliate the four horsewoman

Since the arrival off the Riot Squad they have been on a reign off terror and now they have set there sights on Charlotte Becky Bayley and Sasha. After weeks off being attacked Charlotte has had enough and is in the Ruby Liv Sarah get your asses out here know so I can give you the beating you need. Ruby Liv and Sarah are stood on the ramp entrance. Ruby says Charlotte you will get a match with me to night but first you have to agree to the stipulation. Charlotte filled with rage says ok what...

1 year ago
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Knightwoman

Lisanna Craig was lounging in her mansion on a Friday Night. She had just slipped on a fleecy nightgown and was enjoying a glass of wine while she stroked her cat and read a paper. She had made the headlines again in her superheroine persona, Knightwoman. She had prevented the nefarious Clownman and his henchwoman Jenny Jester from robbing the first national bank of Renisance City. She smiled at the picture of her in a superhuman pose as the two villains where lead away in a van. "Sometimes I...

Fantasy
1 year ago
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Rape and Beat the Anchorwoman

Note : This story is completely fictional! Never try to do it in real live! - THIS is EROTIC FICTION/Fantasies ONLY! M+F, bd, nc, rape, humil, tort, Mdom, anal, enem A television anchorwoman is captured and punished by a convicted criminal's brother for insulting the family name. For two days she is beaten and raped in her own home. She is forced to submit to the rape of her mouth, pussy and asshole, each time beaten before the rape begins. Chapter 1-The Punishment Begins “Convicted child...

Fetish
1 year ago
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Superwoman

Note : This story is completely fictional! It was the same routine every single day. I'd get up at the crack of dawn to finish the laundry, cook breakfast, iron my husband's business shirts and finish any other unfinished business around the home. I did it all. I was a stay at home mother for 18 years now. I was 38 at the time and I had three children, Josh who had just turned 18, Emily who was 11 and Kevin who was 8. My husband Michael was a hard working businessman who hadn't bothered to ask...

Incest
1 year ago
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Motherless Vintage

Do you know of the porn site Motherless.com? You should. I’ve reviewed it a few times on my site, The Porn Dude, although it was for different genres every time. This time around, I’m going back to this place and looking at a specific and niche little category many of you are just begging me to cover. We’re looking at vintage porn today. While it doesn’t have the same resolution and quality as the porn you can find today, it’s definitely a genre of porn that has a lot of personality to it and...

Vintage Porn Sites
3 years ago
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Althea

I should have known better. I should have remembered that old saying, "If it looks too good to be true, it is." I was in love. She was damned near all I thought about with the exception of my studies and it didn't make sense to me. I prided myself on my intellect and my ability to think logically, but there wasn't anything logical about the way I felt about Althea. She was beautiful, smart and very popular and I was not. I wasn't a bed looking guy, but I was nothing exceptional. I was...

3 years ago
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Further Adv of Lois Lane Lois Lane and Catwoman 2

Some comic characters mentioned in my stories could be the property of these respective comic book publishers, Marvel, DC, or Image. If they are being used, this a work of fictional parody. The Further Adventures of Lois Lane Lois Lane and Catwoman, part 2 by Steve Zink In part 1, Lois had watched the police cart the original Catwoman, Selina Kyle, and her gang off to jail. A policeman had found the unconscious Lois in a complete Catwoman costume from her earlier time...

1 year ago
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Motherless Images

Motherless. A one-word website title that says everything it needs to say. This is a site where the rules are, more or less, completely thrown out the window, morality means absolutely nothing, and there is nobody to save you from it. Hedonism is God here.The site likely is also called this due to the fact that the girls who end up on motherless.com likely have no positive female influence in their lives to keep them from it. Motherless is the place parents spend their whole lives fearing that...

Porn Pictures Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Amateur

I always considered Motherless the “4chan” of porn. Not only because Motherless was somewhat popularized there, but because Motherless also encourages users to share their own content in a very open way. This means minimal bullshit like moderation and censorship, and a strong “anything goes” attitude that leads to free and extreme content. It encourages people to create and upload their own homegrown content, like videos of their girlfriend pissing or spycam videos of their cousin....

Amateur Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless BBW

What is it about Motherless that makes me fucking cum every time? Maybe it is how raw and amateur the porn on the site comes across as, or the content is just that fucking hot. Perhaps it is the fact that there is an astronomical amount of pornography just waiting for a dumb fuck like you to beat off to! I really don’t know, and frankly, I’m not going to pretend that I do.But what I do know is that if you love BBWs, the Motherless.com homepage will not be of much use! Preferably, head on over...

BBW Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Voyeur

Have you ever heard about a website called Motherless? Home to all kinds of kinky porn niches, with a side of the mainstream crap? If you are into some questionable fap content, you might want to check this website out. Plus, Motherless is a free porn website, so you can browse as much as you fucking want. Now, I am not really here to talk about the website in general… I am here to tell you about their amazing category, called voyeur porn.The world of voyeur fucking is a rather interesting one....

Voyeur Porn Sites
2 years ago
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Aether Guardians

The Five Kingdoms of Arstoria had been embroiled in the Great Ancient War for centuries. The war came to an end when Kalace, the Wizard King conquered the five lands and brought them under his rule. Kalace, the Wizard King of Arstoria, conquered all of his opponents who were unable to deal with his overpowering magic. When Kalace had united the five kingdoms, he brought peace to the warring kingdoms and was revered and celebrated by his later generation. Kalace, however, had a dark weakness in...

Fantasy
1 year ago
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Motherless Creampie

Woah, did Motherless.com get a facelift? I know I suggested it in my review, so I guess they listened to me! Well, I’m not going to brag too much about it, and instead, I’m going to focus on what I’ve set out to bring you today. We’re looking at an amateur website, and I just know that many of you are begging for amateur creampie content, so that’s what we’re looking at. I know how much you think Motherless can look sickening and pretty gruesome at times, but the creampie content can be quite...

Creampie Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Cuckold

No matter what type of porn you may be in the market for, Motherless has an ample supply of it, and cucking is no different. Actually, this might help to explain how you ended up being such a pussy little cuck.The journey that brought you to my website reading cuck porn reviews started in your childhood. A fair portion of my readership is actually motherless. Why, you ask? Your guys' moms chose a life of cucking and riding cock instead of raising you fucks properly.Don't worry, gents. I'm in...

Cuckold Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Horror

I browsed the horror stash at Motherless all morning, and now I don’t know if I should jack off or go hide in the closet until the danger has passed. Then again, hiding out might give me the perfect opportunity to rub one out in the peace and safety of the dark. Who knows who—or what—might be peeping in the windows with nefarious intent if I sit at my desk and shake my dick at the screen. Just like when I masturbate at the local Starbucks, I’ve got to be sure to balance the potential pleasure...

Extreme Porn Websites
1 year ago
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Motherless Incest

Incest porn has been a staple of pornography since the very first incel caveman realized that he couldn’t find fresh pussy out and about. He resorted to sniffing a whiff of his mother’s loincloth when she wasn’t looking, and beating his old cave meat into a leather sock.Now personally I’m not into the whole mommy-son dynamic – I’m a classy guy. But it’s no secret people like to get freaky when the lights go out, and if you’ve got a stiffy in your hand and you’re on Motherless, you gotta go...

Incest Porn Sites
2 years ago
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Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Thanks to my usual cast and crew of Editors and Advance Readers, most of whom prefer to pretend that they don’t know me and wisely wish to take no responsibility for any part of my addled writings... Il n’est rien de réel que le rêve et l’amour - Nothing is real but dreams and love (from Le Coeur innombrable, IV, Chanson du temps opportun by Anna de Noailles) She was my one true mistress and ever faithful lover, my Green Lady and guardian of my dreams and now that I was back home...

2 years ago
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Thea Chapter Four

When the car with Jake in it became a dot on the horizon, Thea turned to go back in the house. Suddenly Floyd appeared. “Mrs. Thea, how you be?” Smiling, she knew immediately what he wanted. He had that look and a glance at his crotch confirmed it. The imprint of his cock was prominent as it pushed against the material. “Looks like everyone is gone.” Floyd said. His eyes looking out over the farm. “Yes, I am by myself for at least the next few days.” She replied in an...

2 years ago
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Thea and Sam

“Well, hell,” Thea said as she wiped the beads of perspiration from her face. “I guess ‘spring’ is here, huh?” “Yeah. It’s supposed to be cooler at higher elevation,” I replied. We took a few minutes in the shade by the rocks before rejoining our boyfriends. The four of us had driven up into the pass to hike. According to the weather report, the last coolness of a fading winter was supposed to continue through mid-week, but they were wrong. Actually, from our view from Eagle Point, where we’d...

1 year ago
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Motherless

Motherless.com! What an original name for a porn site, don't you think? The title doesn't fuck around: your mother would never allow you to watch the kind of filth they’ve got on tap. They pride themselves on being a moral-free zone for sick fucks, where you can find damn near anything. I’m talking about desperate chicks fucking anything that resembles a dick and crazy bitches literally eating shit. When you’re done fapping to the weird vids, you can even find "normal" porno to pass the time....

Free Porn Tube Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Interracial

Ah, motherless, here we are again. A site known for offering such a variety, that no matter how fucked up your needs are, there is a high chance that you will fulfill them here. However, I am not here to blab about the site in general; I am here to talk about one particular category, interracial. As for those who want to know more about the site, there is a whole different review on my website instead.As for those who came here to learn more about that interracial lovemaking, I got your back....

Interracial Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Theos LIfe as a Weresquirrel

Theo had been changing into the squirrel too much, he knew that now... as a pulse of heat raced through his body from his groin. He realized that he shouldn't have come to the office.He had been spending most of his days at the squirrel in his home deep in the countryside. Teleworking most of the time, as the squirrel he felt no need for clothes, his heavy furred balls resting between his thighs as his paws raced over the keyboard. The sharp claws on his paws clattering loudly as he typed,...

Fantasy & Sci-Fi
1 year ago
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Motherless Scat

It’s time to go to the land of chocolate fountains and golden showers. That’s right. Scat, piss, shit, and every fluid in between. Ever fuck a chick in her ass and freak out when you see that little bit of shit on your dick? Then I’m sorry to say that scat isn’t for you buddy. Were you the only one of your friends that saw two girls one cup and didn’t get grossed out? If so, it’s time to celebrate it! Don’t get pissed off, get pissed on! Scat porn has the craziest, kinkiest chicks and dudes...

Scat Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Fappening

I’m not saying anything controversial when I say men love seeing women naked. It’s a fact of life as fundamental as gravity. It’s a force of nature that cannot be stopped by beast, man, or God. It’s an eternal truth and a divine mandate. As sure as the sun will rise, men will attempt to view as many women naked as they possibly can. Any man not doing so is either a sad or a gay one.This means that any woman a man sees regularly is mentally stripped down during every interaction. If any women...

The Fappening
3 years ago
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Absinthe Dreams

‘To me it’s not really a green. When I think green, I think of grass. That’s more like lemonade color.’ Erica’s nose was far too close to the glasses for my taste. Pouring the nearly clear absinthe over the rough-cut, cane-sugar cubes I favor, I tapped my spoon for a second to get her to back up. I wished I had my full setup here like I have at home, my Absinthe fountains water drippers are missed when I began to try and slowly pour water over the sugar cube. ‘Don’t you light it on fire?’ she...

1 year ago
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Motherless Arab

Have you ever heard about a wonderful site called “Motherless”? I have a feeling that was a dumb question, of course, you fucking have. Well, I am here to talk about Motherless, but I shall also pay special attention to their Arab category. If you think Arabian sluts are hot, well you are in for a tasty treat, believe me.First, I should probably warn you that the name of this place comes from the fact that their content might be a bit too hardcore or questionable for some of you. Back in the...

Arab Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Facials

Fuck yeah, life’s a bitch! So here I am, awake at 3:45 AM, after dreaming I was fucking this freaking hot MILF neighbor with heavy boobs, a flat tummy, a nice bubble butt, and sexy long legs. It was all hot and steamy, up until when she was sucking me off and just as I was about to obliterate her cute face with hot cum canon, my dream cut right off and I woke up with a tent on my pajamas.That dream ain’t coming back, but damn it! I sure gotta cum, so I boot up my laptop and type “cum facial” in...

Facial Cumshot Porn Sites
3 years ago
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Thea

Und draußen schallte wieder Punkmusik aus dem Ghettoblaster – von der Eisenbahnunterführung bis zu seinem Haus! Punks und Skater hingen da ab. Das war diese Art von Jugendlichen, die ihren Eltern das Leben schwer macht , die von Arbeit nichts hielten, sich an keine Regeln hielten, ständig auf Party machten. Die soffen viel zu viel und kotzten dann in irgendeine Ecke. Denen bedeutete doch nichts und niemand etwas. Wahrscheinlich nahmen sie auch Drogen und trieben weiß-Gott-was mit...

BDSM
1 year ago
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Motherless Fetish

Motherless is the mother of all porn sites. Motherless has no conscience or moral guide. Motherless will show you the stuff that all other porn sites are afraid to put up. Motherless will do this for free. This is seriously one of the nastiest and raunchiest sites out there and Motherless/Fetish is perhaps one of the dirtiest places on the web that are well within reach. Sure you can scan the dark web and find something even more naughty or puzzlingly gross, but why do that when you’ve got...

Fetish Porn Sites
2 years ago
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Absinthe 2 The Absinthe of Malice

Absinthe 2: The Absinthe of Malice By Morpheus The flight from Seattle to Boston had been extremely long and uncomfortable, even with the two hour delay in Chicago where I got to stretch my legs and change flights. My book had given me something to do during the countless hours in the air, though admittedly, Collin had been my largest savior from boredom. The two of us had ended up talking for over half the flight, and by the time we finally landed, I was even starting to consider...

2 years ago
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Thelma and Me Summer of 65 part 2

After tea on the Friday evening Thelma stopped me as I was going into upstairs to my room. Her eyes looked wild and her breathing was heavy. “I’m going to a party,” She said in a low voice, “do you want to watch me getting undressed?” I nodded like a puppet. “Wait in my room…I’ll be up in five minutes.” I skipped up the stairs two at a time! I nervously let myself into my sister’s bedroom. I’d been in many times before – borrowing her dirty knickers and stuff to use...

4 years ago
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ETHELS DISCOMFORT 4

Harry and Rob sat in the local pub in their usual spot in the corner by themselves. They were having a discussion about what to do with Ethel. Rob has been adamant that he wants to hang Ethel by her ankles and butcher her. Harry strongly disagrees with him. Harry is convinced that if he talks to Ethel he can persuade her not to go to the authorities and they will be able to use her the same way the other men. Rob agrees to try Harry's way first but he says" if she wants to argue I'm going to...

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