Then he kept his hand on my head, making it clear that I was to keep his cock in my mouth until he was ready for the next round -- and he always seeme... to be.Dave taught me to worship his cock, and taught me how much I loved to hear a black man telling me what to do to please him -- calling me a bitch, slut, whore, cocksucker, faggot, pussy, and whatever else he wanted. He made it clear that my only purpose while in his apartment was to pleasure him, and that as long as I did that, I was a good. At swing clubs I learned about the gay clubs and hook-up sites on-line. At the arcades and theaters I learned about the tranny bar called "The Lounge." On line I made friends with guys in Vegas or about to come to Vegas. It was INSANE. The Lounge was (and still is) in a giant square-shaped shopping area called "Commercial Center." The first time I went to The Lounge I went as a guy and, after a single drink, found myself having a wildly enthusiastic sample blow-job outside The Lounge in a. We're not going to show this to anybody else, are we Marty? No, we're going to keep it just between us three. Providing of course that you behave yourself and don't do anything to upset me and Marty." The two of them exchanged looks that said it all. They had me in the palms of their hands and would expect me to cater to their sexual needs whenever and wherever they decreed. I felt like screaming, but as my head cleared, I realised that I had to be focussed on what I was going to do, how I was. Jacqui noticed with a sinking heart that the women prisoners were being kept separate from the men. She expected that indicated another set of leering men making crude offers of friendship and help in order to get a free fuck or something worse. She shuddered as she thought of how the bastard on the space ship had tricked her.Then a woman with a badly scarred face came into the room. Her left eye was almost buried in scar tissue where a cut had run from the top of her left ear across the left.