PATRICIA My life before my transformation ass seemed like it belonged to another woman. I had the memories, but they weren’t my memories. Though the entity ‘Patricia Bronson’ still technically lived, she was dead in all but the perspective from which she saw the world. I was Yavara’s daughter, but I didn’t think she appreciated what that meant. Titus was right; day-walkers were a half measure. It wasn’t just that they skirted the ills of vampirism, but it was like they were simply wearing the bodies as outfits. They didn’t understand. Though their hearts had stopped, and they’d been reborn, they hadn’t truly died. Yavara was still Yavara, even if she was ‘Mom,’ and Prestira was still Prestira; though as I looked at her from across the room, I could tell that wasn’t entirely the case. Something of Grandmother Rasloraca had been left behind on that pirate ship. “Alright, alright, everyone shut the fuck up!” Brock roared, pounding a gavel onto the table. Titus didn’t think much of the orc, but I’d found during my days with Titus that he didn’t think much of anybody besides himself. Though he wanted me to answer to him, I felt no such compulsion. He hadn’t bitten me, and I would only be loyal to the woman who had. If Mom held Brock in high esteem, then I would stay my webcam natural proclivity to see him as an inferior. “Enough with the pleasantries,” Brock growled when the room had silenced, “let’s get down to business. The first council of Queen Yavara Alkandi, first of her name, ruler of Alkandra and the Great Forest convenes now. Brock Terdini, (that’s me) Secretary of War has the floor. Let’s go around in a circle now, amateur and state your name and tell us all something interesting about yourself.” “Are you serious?” Elena laughed. “It’s called rollcall, Ranger, didn’t they do that at Castle Thorum?” Brock growled, then gestured to Certiok, who sat in the corner with a quill and parchment in her hand, “Everything needs to be recorded, and so before every meeting, attendance will be taken for the transcription.” Brock hoisted a heavy rock onto the tabletop, “To avoid excessive cross-talk, the rule is that you can only speak if you have the Orator’s Stone.” “The ‘Orator’s Stone?’” indian Mom laughed, “That’s the doorstop to the tits outhouse!” “Did that taste good?” He asked making me kiss him with my tongue again. I asked in sort of a growl. “Whoooa, Geezus, Lick me…lick me…don’t stop licking me!” For once I was going to make Amy cum quickly. When she took a shower, she laid on her back with her ass up so she could pee on her own face and into her mouth. I was too shy to make the first webcam move as I didn’t know how to talk to girls, especially older women. What can I say? I smiled my indian best smile and shook their hands again as they stared at my boobs. His testicles hit against her ass cheeks as he fucked her butt with the force only a determined male could muster. How’s that, sweetheart?” said Aunt. ‘I guess I am now 2nd famous’ i think He grabbed the small woman and pulled her to him, leaning down tits and kissing her hard on the mouth. Listening to your own Mom talk that way was the amateur most surreal thing ever. She said she understood and Submitted to me, and has been my Slave ever since. It felt awesome to grind her body ass against Maria's body.