If I would not have been so intoxicated from all the whine I would probably have hesitated at that moment, but I was slutty, ready, better to say upmo...t eager to have that awesome cock in my hungry sissy pussy and just said "yes daddy" without losing a second. "Fine. You are a very good girl for daddy." He replied. "Kneel on the floor, sissy. Bottoms up, base down." I liked that he was kinda ordering me to do so, instead of asking for it. Of course I obeyed and was as excited as a little sissy. After clearing his desk of work, he turned off his desk lamp and made his way up, and into the glory of walls with windows. Zack, being a low-level accountant was not afforded such a luxury. His windowless world was a small office, with a locking file cabinet and a locking door. This one small acknowledgement of his skill-set was that he had a door that locked. From time to time, he did handle documents that were deemed ‘corporate-sensitive’, so he had to be able to secure them. But the. It was 'just' a dream, remember, but I'd often felt guilty that my relatives had actually owned other human beings! Sure, the Civil War had left the largely unrepentant South devastated for generations (and in some places it had never fully recovered), but defeated, or not, many Southerners didn't feel sorry for their history of slave ownership. I did, however.Back to the dream---In it, I'd received a letter in the mail informing me that as a Southern white male, and who's ancestors had been. Only both remember, we are Peters, by passport. But with different names back than, by our mutual friend 'Dr. Plitt'.Squatters' times in Amsterdam. Everyone has a nick, those years of revolt and self-rule. Simple security. He calls me Piotr. It's a quarter of a century after we last met and chatted over beers and sexy smelly smokes. "Hi Piotr, still ordering Susanne to come hard so loud everyone can hear her? Or do you have a blonde bride to fornicate, finally?". Funny he still knows that.
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