It was like it hadn't yet ended. She thought again and realized the ending was far more profound.Humiliation ... isolation ... loss ... confinement ..... dependence ... loneliness ... helplessness...fear. As she sat alone she parsed each emotion as it bit her in its turn. They descended upon her one by one in a heavy pall of acrid, black smoke, choking away hope. The smoke blocked all view. In the middle of it all she could see nothing. There was nothing left but resigned compliance. Happiness. Although I didn't know anything about either girl, other than what I had seen from my balcony while playing with my cock, I convinced myself that they were probably dykes. They were never with any guys, and seemed to be too friendly to be mere acquaintances. This went on for several weeks, each day I spied on those two tasty creatures while sitting on my balcony, a beer in one hand and my dick in the other. I was too nervous to approach them; after all, they were probably gay, and I didn't want. ..and took in the delight of slender frame and small but pretty boobs and she lay on her bed in nothing but stockings, suspenders and a tiny thong.... I stripped off down to my shorts and let her roam her hands over the growing bulge before she slipped the waist band of my shorts down to get her hand on my erection.She seemed pleased with what she found and stroked it while I played with her boobs. I kicked off my shorts and squeezed her cute ass as her boobs brushed on my hairy chest.....she. But that income was now ended, and she had a number of other letters to write, explaining that she could no longer continue her column, nor submit articles or work of any kind for the next year. Each time Skeeter signed one of these letters, she felt a part of her die inside.The volume of correspondence was far too great for her owl. Skeeter took the bundle of letters to the post office, paying the sum required to have the letters delivered by public owl. For her own owl, a large and reliable.