Imagine that, asking a woman who regularly fills Madison Square Garden to sing in some school gym." Might be fun," Kassandra mused."You can't be serio...s." No, I guess not," she said, remembering how long it'd been since she'd sang in a place where she could actually connect with her fans without a small army of security between them. "Did you at least get her name and address? We should at least send her daughter a personal letter congratulating her on finishing high school." Let me think," her. I cannot see her feet, but she is probably wearing high heels. In her mouth is a kind of iron gag that opens her mouth wider. Saliva is covering her mouth and chin. Her eyes are focused on the ground. Her long blonde hair is bound tight in a ponytail. Just above her pussy I see “slut5 of Mistress Marit” written with a black permanent marker. “Turn around”, Mistress Marit says pleased and Chantal turns slowly around and now I see red marks all over her ass and when she keeps turning I see them. Just like the majority of today’s Black people. We’re the original tribe of humans. All others are genetic mutants. Offshoots. You see, the ancestors of White people were Black. They left Africa and went to Europe, where it’s much colder. The weather and environment of Europe changed them. They became paler, and colder. They’re the ones who’ve forgotten where they come from, not the Black person. The human race is a strong species. We adapt well. And as the purest descendants of the original. Yellow bone complexion. Short in height judging from sitting on the bar stool. She smiles. Give me a sec and I got another customer then you tell me about it right? I smile not knowing what to think. She comes back from the other side of the bar. Athletic body great thighs with a real apple bottom ass and a tight black top revealing little but the shape of what looks like a b cup bra size. My mood changes instantly.So what made it a rough day honey? I start yabbering and talking bout the day..