What little pain there was I had learned to love. My yelps were fake but the writhing around I did was more real.She dumped more of it, this time land...ng it on my rounded heaving breast. The red wax made a splotch that was in sharp contrast with my cream colored skin. I yell and begged her to stop and of course she didn't. She continued painting my body with the wax-both breasts, my tummy, my thighs. I struggled and started crying like a baby.When she had used up most of the candle she blew it. "How is she doing?" I ask. You shake your head and frown. I move down and bite on the girls ear again. "Girl, you are not doing very well. You can't just stick your tongue in there and swirl it around. You have to eat pussy with purpose." I slide up and get something and move behind the girl you watch me and I am looking at you as I slide the plug into her ass. We both hear the girl as she moans into your pussy as the plug slides into her. "That is the small one. If you don't improve we can get. Everything was going well until my father suffered a mild heart attack. Not so serious, but his doctors told him that he had to take it easy. Instead of hiring a manager, my parents insisted that I move in with them and help run the family business.I did whatever was necessary. Cleaning toilets, repairing appliances, purchasing supplies, brewing coffee, and a dozen other chores. I refused to give up my freelance work and set up a makeshift darkroom so that I could develop and print my own. Her only possessions were the clothes she wore, a backpack full of underwear and the all-important documentation that included a passport to a no longer functioning nation. She mingled with the countless unfortunates begging on Croydon's cratered streets. She ate soup that was doled out by makeshift soup kitchens and slept in the doorways of boarded-up shops. By chance, she heard of another refugee centre in Reigate that might be able to help her if she was willing to work there for no pay..