”“You know no one ever said anything that nice about me before.”“That’s hard to believe. You were quite charming and handsome back then.”�...�Oh wow,” chuckled Mark. “Were.”“Well, you still are incredibly handsome, but we know how me saying that ended last time.”“Maybe it’s different now,” the grandfather posited.“Is it though? I’d rather you not toy with me.”“Lynn. You were a good, loyal friend. I hate it ended how it did. But we’ve both grown since then.”“I would think so.”“I know so. I tried it. . Those sorts. But the real connoisseursamongst slave owners want to own good looking, educated,Westerners. To some extent there's no satisfaction in owning manyhundreds of the "peasant" types as to them their slavery is almost arelief - they get properly fed, enough water, access to propermedical care, and generally live a life that's better than they wereexperiencing before. But to a well educated man from a typicalWestern country, slavery is hell: no freedom, no choice, and therequirement to. First, her large breasts were presented magnificently, thrustforward proudly I front of her. Second, her legs were spread wide enough tomake her crotch a hard flat space below her belly, the lips under their adornmentof ginger fluff hanging free in space over the floor. Her whole figure wascovered in a soft film of sweat from the exertion. "I imagine that must bequite uncomfortable." Satyra looked up into those yellow eyes, blanching slightly at the malevolenceshe saw in them. 'Whoever you. You so did not need to see that. Jesus." I said.Caitlin, for all of the awkwardness that we were dealing with, simply stood there in her bikini looking at me. And she smiled."Dude. Seriously. It's really not an issue. Don't freak out. I mean, I won't deny, I've never seen one of my friends dads or whatever do that kinda thing. But come on. I know that it happens. It's really not like a big deal," Caitlin said.I could not believe she was being as chill and cool as she was. I didn't know what to.