A few times, Isabelle took out this odd, gameboy looking device, rapidly typing in words. Um, Isabelle, there are no phones in school, Mrs. Rudy said ...ternly. Isabelle looked confused and even more nervous. She looked down at her device and came to a sudden realization. No, this is a, eh, translator, she said, holding it up for Mrs. Rudy to see as the attention of the entire class focused on Isabelle. I see, Mrs. Rudy said, going back to the introduction. All of my classes were double period. It was worth over three hundred dollars and he knew that she didn't have the money to pay for it. The death of her father had left the family destitute. He'd checked into her background a bit more than he normally would for an employee when she'd been hired. He waited for a few moments before he heard the crash and shatter of glass on the tiled bar floor. He flew from his seat and out into the main room. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded of the obviously very. I hugged him tight, my hands sliding down his torso until I discovered his hard bulge. I rubbed him.He groaned. “You’re frisky this morning.”“She’s always frisky,” giggled Kora.“I am, Mistress,” I purred. “And how was last night?”“Amazing,” Kora sighed.“She wants to have my kid,” Sven said, sounding proud. “Begged me to breed her.”My pussy clenched. “Ooh, I’d love to have your daughter, Sven. She’d be such a cute lamia.”“Wouldn’t she be half-human?” Sven frowned. “If I’m the father.”I. “Sei italiano?” The first suit had reported her accent to him. His accent was American! This was a bonus. Someone with Italian roots, or connections at least.“Si. Sono venuto a proporre alcuni affari, con la persona che possiede la barca,” she spoke quickly.He looked down at her while clearly he did the mental translation. Mia could see he was taking in her condition: her toned shoulders, her abdomen with barely a crease even sitting, her tan, and attitude. It was all status. And probably his.