When 97 saw that I wasn't paying attention, he whipped my backside, and I began repeating the narration of the video, to prove I was attentive. I tho...ght no more of Charles. 97 imposed an organized routine. Sleep, easy enough in zero-gee, then a sponge bath, which I rather enjoyed, when he went over my body with a kind of wet vacuum cleaner, then instruction. If I didn't pay attention, he'd whip me. There were no meal times or anything, because I was fed intravenously, and no need to. I mention this detail for the fact that it was from my five free-of-charge visits to this call-girl "Sandra" in my formative teenage years that I learned obedience to women. Perhaps she was a witch. I have no means of knowing.The cane Sandra used had a crooked handle, was very whippy, howled when she whipped the air with it, and was about four feet long. I remember it was yellow with a very delicate mottled pattern. I grew to fear this cane over the last three visits. She undressed to her. Standing before me is a young looking ten year old. Unlike Danielle who could pass for a woman, Rosy looks like a kid and a young preteen kid at that.As I lug the laundry upstairs, Rosy follows. Like last time we passed a number of people on the stairs, but no one even took a second look. Everybody is consumed by their own agenda. Once in the apartment, Rosy slips out of her shorts and sits on the sofa. Her panties are a bit more mature this time, a silky looking red and they fit her body. She. I felt so dirty. I didn't feel the pride, like Marcus saidI should, from serving my black owners. I just felt ashamed and dirty.This is my life now, and I wanted to cry.Tom walked away, towards the bedroom, and I heard the door close. Iguessed he was going back to bed. I looked at Tiffany again, with whatI'm sure came off as a hurt look of betrayal. There was an awkwardsilence, and she finally spoke to me."Don't look at me like that, whore. Yes, I said it. You're a fuckingsissy whore now, just.