"I-It's too cold to bear, c-can't we just set camp here for a w-while?" One of the frozen figures asked, a young boy no older than seventeen clutched ...lackened fingers to his sides to try and maintain his core from diminishing. He had blond hair that dirtied from the travels and had clung to his face like a fine wheat straw one might find in fancier stables. His eyes dimmed from the cold and his face stung red and bitten by the frost, snot had frozen in his nose and his breath grew ragged from. She just had that kind of majestic presence. Her eyes could turn from warm and pleasant to cold and hard in an instant.The Drover, head of the Wagner family, sat next to the Whore. He looked like a cowboy. He had a slim build with rough facial features. His brown eyes seemed to stare off into the distance. His movements were stiff as if he had back problems.The Weaver, head of the Weber family, was next at the table. Although her business was clothing, she dressed like a frump. It was almost as. Mistress and Master walked in catching their sluts getting fucked with the boy toys. Mistress was pissed off and started to scream. Master looked like he’d kill somebody.“What the fuck is going on here? You’ll be punished severely for what you have done. Sluts are to service only their owners. You’ll get in a line and expect to be punished.”The nymphs climbed off the naughty boys and got in a line to be given their spankings. Bambi and the other sluts got on their knees waiting for Master. ." Thompson was not having a very successful time in regaining his aplomb, as he began to see this carefully scripted situation not just slip away from his absolute control; but cascade away quickly.But J. Carter Thompson was a major player in the business world, and had not risen to his position by being slow to react. And he was a world-class negotiator; and he brought those skills into play now."See here, Chandler," he began in what I am sure he thought was a more reasonable and conciliatory.