"The Slave Sigil." A permanent form of evidence that shows you where once a slave, even if one was to escape their slave leathers.Finally after a long...time the stains lifted from the sheets and flowed down the river. Alicia picked up the sheets and forced them into a straw basket so they where easy to carry. She begun her journey through the quaint village to her masters home. Arnol Botley owned her. He was young for a lord, only 32 years of age. His father had died several years ago leaving. But it was worth it.He carefully opened the door, trying not to make much noise so as not to wake his parents. While they would all sleep in tomorrow, being Saturday, Steve didn't want to interrupt their sleep. His footsteps didn't make a sound as he crossed by the living room."Home late, aren't we?" a voice called out. Steve flinched, surprised by the voice. His father was sitting on the couch, glaring at the teenager."Yeah. I gave a ride home to some girls. Sorry I'm late." His father's eyes. I agreed with him that before leaving I would go with our mother and our sister to the room to play with clothes and that I would then ask one of them to call him with the excuse of talking for a while before taking us to the hotel and he would fuck me, as it was a hot night i wore thong briefs, a short skirt and a bandeau, and there i asked to call my brother who gave me a wonderful quickie. On the trip to the hotel my husband, very tired and somewhat drunk, insisted that I go in the front. Every time I did, she seemed to moan a little.I continued to tease, but decide to let my finger to a little wandering. I slid my finger up and down her slit and then slowly slid my finger into her already wet pussy. "Mmmmmm" is what I heard in return. I massaged her pussy and clit until her ass started clenching and I felt that wonderful pussy grasp my finger. I knew then that she was on the verge of climax. So, I stopped. Hmmm Not yet sweetie. Not yet.]I continued to rub her ass cheeks and up.