Which had been something in his favour, Deborah had thought.Then what?Oh yes. Oh shit! Then someone had pulled a sack over her head and she'd been lif...ed up. That had been when she passed out. And how, she guessed, she came to be here sitting on the floor, in what looked like a tiny room, with the silver wreath of flowers that she wore on her head in a distinct state of disarray and the wand that had been tucked into her belt, badly bent and almost certainly, from a magical perspective, broken.. I felt a cushion under my hips, so my butt was up in the air.My cunt was soaking wet, stretched and sore; so I knew somebody’s cock had penetrated me while I was passed out.I took a deep breath and struggled to move; but the ropes around my wrists and ankles kept me in position.I then heard a deep unknown voice saying:“Hey, my little bitch is awoken right now…”Somebody approached breathing heavily and began caressing my legs, going up through my thighs until these fingers reached out my well. I guess this was to make sure that SIL’s excuse of commuting was genuine. From that day I started to pick her up daily I had Pulser without any holding grip for pillion rider. My SIL use to site behind me in parallel position, were she use to try as much as possible to avoid touching her boos to my back either by keeping her bad between us or leaning backwards as much as possible.One day she wore a jean as she and was not taking bag. I was in mood of miss chip; I did lots of sudden braking on. But the stranger ... he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies.If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly.