I’ve been branded!!. I’ve been branded!! I’m a slavegirl!! Those thoughts made her pussy get wet again. She felt up to her neck for her collar. ...es, there it was. She really was a slavegirl!!She thought back to the branding. Yes it was painful. Yes it was traumatic. But Quanesha was right. The pain was only for a short time. And now she understood something of the pain that her racist ancestors had inflicted upon Black slaves. And she felt truly owned!! Only animals and slaves were branded!!. "The sommelier?" queried the Maître d', "The Emir will take wine?"Maktum broke in again before the Surété man could answer, "His Magnificence, may he live for ever, eats and drinks whatever he wishes."The tone of voice brooked no argument. The Maître d' had not reached that exalted rank by being stupid and he immediately connected the €1000 tip which was rumoured among the staff with the incognito visit of the Emir. What he could not understand was how he could have been so blind as to put a. "Anyway, I wish you all the best, ma'am," she said. "Have a nice day."Acknowledging that she had officially finished their conversation, Davidnodded politely and walked back to his office. He slumped in his chair,logged into his computer again and started reading the messages in hisinbox. The first one was from the company, congratulating him on histransition and wishing the best of luck in the future. The following oneswere work assignments and he was happy to take his mind off the outcomeof. Instead she moved her hands all over my body, pulling my shirt free and ripping it from me. It was obvious now that lust had taken control of her as she continued to hastily remove the rest of my clothing. I pulled her top off of her exposing her sweet succulent breasts. I cupped each one and caressed her softly while she undid my pants and slid them down my legs. “Ohhh Uncle Bobby, I’ve got to have it! Take me now!!!”Britney pulled my underwear down exposing my throbbing 8”erection. I felt her.