Like I cared. It was the soulless banter at your disposal when you felt compelled to say something, but were too lazy or chicken-shit to be authentic....��Yeah, really.” She fired back. My peripheral vision drank each fluid motion as she hopped up the stairs alongside me. Every bouncing step was intoxicating. Dana didn’t have much to say outside replying to my crap.We each turned the corner after the stairs. In a few more steps down the damp hallway, I stood in front of my door. “See ya.” I waved. I wondered if his wife was away again.After morning tea I wanted to call my ex-boyfriend. Perhaps we could come to an un-exing agreement. Instead, I made myself log into the first site on Jan's list. The image took some moments to form on my screen. Either it was a data heavy site or the network was working hard. I was idly thinking the site wouldn't work for people with dial-up accounts when I recognized the images before me. Heat rose across my throat and cheeks. A group of naked masturbating. Mistress Laris never purchased or trained a child to be a bathhouse whore that was over the age of eight years old. And there was not one child kept in the bathhouse that was over the age of twelve. When they turned thirteen the children were normally sold to be sex slaves in privet homes or sold to other brothels for a very high price. The brothels would always pay more coin for bathhouse girls because they had already been trained by the best and they would take abuse without complaint. The. She was wearing low-rise jeans. It was bound to happen. What was she hiding? He was about to find out. Jackpot! His penis twitched as he saw them. His head tilted. They were so innocuous and ladylike. Lace pink ones. He took a picture of that image and stored it in his powerful mind.'Hmm. Interesting,' he thought.It was his first time he’d seen hers. She happened to be his crush. She was cute, classy, with a little bit of pretentiousness, but he didn't care at the time. Sometimes he would see a.