She had me walk to a benchwhere she tied the leash like she had done the previous time we had beenthere. As I sat on the bench I wondered when Tracy m...ght stroke me on thehead again or on my belly.It occurred to me that if I was Tracy's bitch it meant that she wasmaking a commitment to continue to see me, at least until such time asshe maybe no longer "owned" me. It meant that for the first time maybe Idid really have an actual relationship with her. I was pretty sure that Iwas the only. She likes Willis, and vice versa, but I don't think she could handle knowing that I'm sleeping with the black guy next door!" She smiled at that, and reached out and put her hand onto her daughters hand; and Megan took hold of her mom's hand in both of hers and said: "I think Willis is the best thing that's happened to you in a long time, mom; and I want you to be happy! I really, really do! Okay? And---you are NOT a 'whore!' Your not. Nor are you a 'slut!' Your sexual needs are natural, and. You know how this story goes, smart kid born into a poor family, limited opportunities and lack of supervision. My mom wasn’t to blame for any of it, she was a hard worker that had to pick up the slack when my piece of shit father decided that shooting up was more important then taking care of his family. Mom was always working to put food on the table and I was left to my own devices for the most part, and everything was going great until I reached the age where you start realizing that people. However, Xena was already in so much pain, the additional bumping and bruising seemed to make very little difference. Ultimately they arrived at the door of Xena’s cell and Flavia unlocked it and pulled her victim in. It was a small cell, as bare and bleak as it was possible to imagine. It had stone walls, a stone floor, and a stone ceiling which was crossed with heavy beams from which hung chains and manacles.Against one wall was a plain plank-bed. “Get up on there and kneel, slave,” ordered.