I know women complain about men ogling them and I think I was beginning to understand why."She's in my daughter's class," she said. "I thought her mot...er was a nurse..." She is." Happily, just then the kids emerged and mostly made bee-lines for their parents or carers.I saw Sally looking round for her mother (or her usual minder) until she caught sight of me and ran towards me, shouting, "Daddy, Daddy!" I can't express the feeling that gave me, intensified when she flew into my arms. I picked. What have I gotten myself into?"Yes, sir," she answered.Sally was now a commodity; a piece of meat to be sold on the street to strange men for sex. She felt trapped, but at the same time, there was something very sensual about her situation. She found an overpowering sexual gratification from the fact that she was now in slavery to a powerful black pimp who controlled her life.His street name was Sweet Daddy. Sally never knew his real name. And she never saw a sweet side to the man. She found. She was just starting to beg as she felt him move onto his knees and run his hands up the inside of her thighs. Her hands went behind her to grasp the railing of the bridge. He pushed her skirt up around her hips and then pushed her legs apart. His hands moved up to the tops of her thighs and he looked up at her, seeing her leaning against the bridge, her back arched wantonly and her breasts glistening in the moonlight. He pushed her panties to the side and slowly started to run his tongue up. The two young women immediately drew my attention. It was difficult to judge their height while sitting down, but they didn't appear to be overly tall. The rest of them was fairly obvious however. Their long flaming red hair set off their smooth alabaster skin and, as I drew closer, I could see that they had a light sprinkling of freckles.They had on Forest Green velvet dresses that set off their deep green eyes, which I finally saw when being interviewed. The skirts of the dresses were very.