Thepeople, again, said no.Around the time when I had to apply (I had just turned 18), the thirdconsequence went into effect. They needed something tha... would discouragemen from applying... something that was literally worse than death.They found it. They would select the finest men to be the breeders. Afterthat, the vast majority would be castrated. They would live theirpathetic lives, though they could keep the lives they had, still getjobs, etc. But the real deterrent? A small percentage of. Becky was trying not to wake me, that was obvious. I was watching thru carefully partially opened eyes, and she was straddling my hips and lowering herself onto Mr. Meat. She finally got everything lined up and slid me home, but she overbalanced and started to tip backwards. So I brought my knees up to provide a backrest."Hi Becky. I guess you want some breakfast sausage." I gave my hips a little wiggle and that made Mr. Meat wiggle and THAT made Becky wiggle. I reached out and placed my big,. The officers looked from Rosanna to the young man and back again. “We’re going to have to take you in, Ma’am. He wants to file an assault charge,” one of the officers informed Rosanna, who still stood speechless and motionless. She seemed incapable of defending herself. Finally, Solace spoke up. She disengaged herself from Rosanna and with cane in hand proceeded to speak in the opposite direction of everyone. “Officer, please. This woman is my guide. It took me forever to get anyone from social. Rubbins I'll take what I've seen to the committee let us Hope they want to keep you on." With that she slammed his door as she left.I was shaking, this confrontation left me weak barely able to stand and apparently because of a vindictive and horny woman, I might not have a job here now. Sighing I sat as I tried to calm down, taking the bull by the horns I called the front desk, "Yes, this is Mr. Rubbins in room 380, yes, Please thank the cultural committee for the room, inform them I am.