Suddenly I felt her foot move up my leg. I shifted a little and glanced around the room. She had slipped her shoe off and was pressing her toes betwee... my legs. Our eyes met. She smiled a devilish grin and slid down into her chair slightly, reaching her foot higher up between my legs until her heel was pressed against my crotch. I looked around the restaurant. I felt pretty sure no one was paying any attention to us now. The tablecloth hid our legs from view. I opened my knees and shivered as. I wanted to ask a question so bad but I knew I’d be punished if I did. Mistress hated it when I asked questions. I needed a beating to remind me to be better. A beating would remind me to not be so ... so anything. I’d learned to enjoy the reminders that I’m no good for anything except being mistresses stress relief.“Well?”Sir Paul needed an answer. I needed my hole. Mistress needed me to be gone. I cried. I think I fell to the ground. I know my head hurt like mistress had punched me on the. I can see them. Is your kitty wet, Kitty?” “How dare...” she responded, her voice quavering. She never had the opportunity to finish. His right hand shot behind her head with lightning speed, twining into hair, and pulling her to his lips. She tried to resist at the last second, but she was no match for his strength. His lips pressed against hers – hard and insistent. The hand that had once helped to bar her escape found her breast and squeezed. He’s going to take me – right here, she thought. Look at this fucking faggot take all that dick and not miss a beat.? Stacy looked up. ?Yeah, that’s right, I’m a fucking faggot whiteboy that lives to be used by black men. Breed my sissy cunt, use me, degrade me for being a perverted white bitch, treat me like a piece of shit. Take out all your aggression and frustration on my pussy. Just fuck me. FUUUCK ME.? And that’s exactly what they did. One by one, they fucked her like an animal without care for her pleasure or pain. Every time a.