She could hear her heart pounding and darkness had begun to gather in her peripheral vision. Cruz cried out. Amateur porn Sara ventured that there could be worse fates than to be a woman, free, exploring fabulous Las Vegas. Please!”
The slave’s pleas gave way to high-pitched shrieks, joining the chorus of agony that echoed all around them. Every few minutes, she would listen to Cruz have another orgasm – her pleas growing ever more frantic and, ultimately, incoherent. She was in a dimly lit corridor, walking past black-painted metal doors, each marked with a number stenciled in white. He had dark skin and curly hair. It was an intensely vulnerable posture, which Sara was mostly required to assume when she was being berated or punished. “May this boy carry your bag for you, mistress?”
She was about to decline what she took to be a very peculiar request – no one having ever offered to ease her burden – when she remembered who she appeared to be.
