"Both the blonde and the Madam look relieved. Despite the presence of Chinese prostitutes amongst her girls, Chinese men, or any man of color seem to ...isgust them. "White people," Cat thinks, "they're worse than Japanese."The simple yet elegant carmine red dress Monique wears as she descends the staircase like a princess has none of the frills typical of dresses at the time except for a crimson ribbon above and one below her derriere that gives focus to its rich expanse like a bustle but it is. I don’t realise I am trembling until Mark envelopes me in his warm, comforting arms.“Hey, are you alright?”“Yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” I whisper.“If you’re not up to it, we don’t have to go,” he murmurs in my hair, but I shake my head, pulling away from him.“No, I’m not going to let him ruin tonight,” I say, determined. I then realise he is staring at me like he has never seen me before.“What?” I ask, feeling slightly self-conscious. I feel his gaze travel from my face to my neck down to. Better me than someone who doesn't like it or want it. But he does have his moments that I know no one else sees. There is the occasional night he'll allow me to sleep with him (but typically only after I take an unusually harsh beating), or the rare night he'll allow me to masturbate (only typically when he knows there will be a little bit of blood in my cum - he loves when that happens), or the even more rare night he'll beat me on the back porch (which are the only times I ever leave the. We’d finished our coffee; she came over to me, hugged me and guided my hand inside the folds of her robe. I squeezed and caressed her breast, feeling it gain in fullness, her nipple swelling and coming erect.She cooed sweetly, “I told you I am wanton and, again I’m wantin’,” as she took my hand and led me to the living room.“Don’t think badly of me, but this is what I want,” she said as raised her robe above her hips and bent over the arm of my sofa, “I’m ready, take me now please Sam.”I moved.