I remember my hips rearing up and my vagina clenching and liquid pooling out of me and onto the chair. I opened my eyes and as the woman gyrated on th... man's fingers I stroked myself. Each swipe made me gasp heavily, each pinch made me shake. One finger turned into two, and then three, as I rapidly flicked the nub in between my parted folds, taking a moment every so often to brush aside the wayward hairs that would get in the way. The man on screen spread the woman's vagina—the woman's pussy, I. "You are Jenny?" He spoke heavily accented, but perfectly clear English."Yes, master," I answered."How old are you?" Twenty-one... I think. Is it past July 21st?" Yes, today is July 24. Your birthday?" Yes, master," I said, fighting back a tear. In the shock of my new life, I had completely forgotten."Happy birthday," he said. He was smiling."Thank you, master." How long have you been a slave?" A few weeks, master." What did you do before that?" I was a student at UCLA, master." The memories. More

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