I reached out as he handed me a large thick photograph album, 'These are my specials', he said as I took hold and let it rest on my lap.He then walked...over to the cabinet and poured two glasses of champagne, and came back and handed me one glass. 'I don't drink', I blurted out, but he reassured me it was just to make me look older, add sparkle to the photos, he was going to shoot some as I thumbed through his 'Specials Album', no need to drink, and besides, champagne was only 14% alcohol, more. She had lost a significant amount of weight, yet her breasts were still relatively big. She still had some flesh on her hips, but now they were slightly narrower than her chest. He was wandering what had happened to her. He thought that it must have been dieting, though he could never imagine her on a diet. It was weird to be so close to someone, who was, as Celeste realised from his bear chest, half naked, and somewhat strange. Yet, she walked to the door, unhooked the robe and then walked to. Meiersdottir pushed slowly through and finally out the port entry. Igwanda lagged slightly, turning to Chavez. "Sergeant, please assemble the troops; I want all in attendance at the meeting." As the soldier in turn pushed through the entry, he touched Shaw on the arm. "A word, please, Bernard," he said quietly. They spoke briefly, and then Igwanda followed out of the now-deserted port.The meeting chamber was in tumult when Igwanda reached it. Most of the attention was still focused on. Was she to be ****d again? She could hear sounds from the apartment. Voices raised, sometimes laughter, sometimes, it seemed, cries of pain.The clump of boots.„Move forward, slave... keep on your belly... keep your nose to the floor,“ ordered Ryar. Flavia slithered forward, rather like a snake, feeling the shame of it... arms spread, breasts flattened. How absurd to feel shame, she thought, after what had happened to her. After that, could anything matter? Yet she did feel shame.Then she was in.
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