“This coffee is very good,” the girl suddenly said, breaking the silence. “It has been AGES since I had one.”Kirsten took notice of the empha...is on the word ‘ages’, but didn’t have time to ask her about it, before being interrupted by a well-dressed middle-aged mom and her two daughters.“I’m sorry, could we use this chair here? Was anyone joining you?” The woman asked, as she made a move for it, and began noisily dragging it to the neighboring table.“No. No. Go right ahead...” Kirsten. She had spent three hours earlier that morning getting her brains fucked out. When she complained that she had to have a shower and get ready for court, they hosed her down naked in the backyard of the house they’d used to have their fun. The judge wasn’t sure if he was looking at a whore, but he knew this much. “You don’t look like mother material, ma’am,” he said bluntly. He told the attorney he would entertain the possibility of Joel having custody. Then he ordered a psychological evaluation. He took his chance and put his arm round her slowly rubbing the side of her boobs and then reached down to her ass. The next time round her cupped one boob and squeezed it slightly, she let out a moan of pleasure. He reached forward to kiss her deeply on her lips while he played with her boobs. His hand now well into the top of the dress direct on her naked boob. She didn’t resist as she was enjoying this way too much and was too horny to think otherwise. They found a bus parked on the sea face. Alone, sitting on her bench before seeking sleep, Corey Gibson reflected on the nature of girls. Girls were property. Girls had to do what they were told. Scarcely more than a couple of centuries of social usage had rubbed off on them its patina of equality. But it was easily erased. A few days as the captive of men had brought her to where she was, grateful for the emotional release of being fucked by her jailor every evening, thankful when she was not bound with rope, finding a strange pride.