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“We’ll soon be munching on the bitter leather of the plow straps, I fear” Madame sounded concerned.“Won’t you need them for Cornelia, Grandmother?” She giggled – the younger girl knew of what I had done. She had too. My eyes grew wide.“We only need one set of straps and your grandfather the Captain, god rest his sould would suffer no talk of plantation business at the table! I shant begin the practice now,” she explained as she tapped some rather hard bread in an attempt to find an edible. . really?”“Yeah. Masochism written into my blood as much as Julias, I guess.”“My m-m-mother died ... not long after I d-disappeared from the world. Sick. My ... my death killed her.” Natasha sighed, looked around at his posters, and then back to him, her soft face smirking as she delved back into half-a-century-old memories. “My dad d-d-died not long after. Suicide.”“Oh ... damn.” He got up, disappeared into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. Only took a second to get a bottle of blood and. Already matted with white cum, her muff was soon drowned in custard as it ran down towards her arse. Discarding the empty cardboard, I helped her spread the pudding over her legs and rubbed it into her cunt, but she soon asked me to open the second carton. As I did so she pulled her socks and knickers back on, and after I'd poured a little custard into them, her shiny black buckle shoes, forcing the stuff to ooze out down the sides, sticking to her socks as it did so. She stood up and buttoned. Duncan had never before been in a situation where the whole room was afraid to respond to an ugly situation. On the other hand, they’d had fun all afternoon. Even the tavern experience had been perfect until the cowboy had intervened. Then after the nightmare they ended up feeling like heroes. ‘Helen, this is going to sound like another come on. Seems like everything I’ve said all day came out just a little wrong. Still, we are sitting in one of my houses and I do have an extra bed. Could I ask.
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