“It was very different when we were young” she replied. “Most of us in the department today have studied and worked abroad – apart from the youngsters”. “I’m not proud of how we treated the prisoners back then,” Zora said, seriously “I resigned a long time ago, before dissent was fashionable”. “You don’t have to tell me lady that” Katya assured her “I understand”. She smiled at Zora, a heavily built but well-proportioned woman of a certain age with pleasant, open features. Zora flashed a charming smile in return. “The staff of the Special Prison used to torment the ‘deviant inmates’, it was an open secret, and the male guards were much worse than us. We were all crass and vulgar”. She relaxed and began to tell her story “They with were kept behind bars in isolation cells and we would go down there between shifts to taunt them. I picked on a beautiful youth called Pierre who had been arrested and held without charge since the Carcosa Club was raided after the affaire Marie-Claude”. She hesitated. “Looking back, I know I became obsessed with him. It seems bizarre now to think that I once felt that way about such a man”. “I don’t understand” Katya said, genuinely perplexed “If Pierre came into this room now, I would beg him to whip me to death, or skewer me alive”. A faraway look came across her face and for a moment she seemed to look right through Zora into a great void behind her. “No, you don’t understand me” Zora confirmed, taking another sip of her tea and setting the glass down “or, at least, I didn’t understand me. I denied my true nature; I thought that I could fill the emptiness with cruelty and dominance of others. I think I tried to control the for thoughts I had about Pierre’s history by trying to control him. Him! At first, I taunted him much as always. I stood near the bars, but beyond the reach of a prisoner’s arms, and whispered obscene suggestions. The whole country had read about what happened at the club, and I would use the details from the government newspapers to try to get a reaction”. “You can imagine the kind of thing” she went on. “I said that I wanted to know how it feels to be whipped and cut; I said that I had once kissed two boys at a party and I was curious about the women who were passed around and shared at the club. Then I would pout and say what a shame it was that he was locked up forever. After a few days, I became frustrated with his quiet smile and I began to show him some thigh and some cleavage, flaunting myself. Teasing always made them either drool and beg or else fly into a rage, but I got no reaction. If anything, he seemed to be amused by me. I found that I was thinking about seeing Pierre all the time, like a silly schoolgirl. I spent hours staring into space choosing what to say or do next time we were alone, something that would finally break him. Then there came an opportunity”. Pierre sat up when the door opened and Zora brought a female prisoner into the room - closing and locking the door behind her. She smiled triumphantly at his reaction. “Yes” she said, gloating, “You know Yelitza, don’t you? At the club, you called her the Captain’s Woman”. Yelitza looked down at her shoes. Her hair had been cropped and she was wearing the regulation prison tunic. Pierre stood up and came to the bars of his cage. Zora slipped off her uniform jacket and unfastened her tie, languidly unbuttoning her crisp, white shirt so that it fell open to the waist. “Do indian you like what you see, Pierre?” she purred, wriggling out of sex her skirt. She grabbed to plastic cups and went into the bathroom. The house was filled with the sound of teeth being brushed, every sink occupied. With other girls. “Well, good night Professor. While I was saying that I looked over to Emily, then Grace, both their right hands had drifted to their pussies and they were slowly rubbing away. Before you knew it she was swallowing handfuls of cum, and she loved every lady drop. I might, but I needed some time to for experience it before sex I with made a decision. Lola!” moaned Macie as her pussy juices gushed indian out around her fingers. “Stop being a pussy!” Nisha shouts at him. First stop, Skin Sub-Menu. She felt her face burn bright red as she glanced up and saw her father looking at her for the first time in days. Finally I couldn’t hold it any longer. Breakfast is ready.” She smiled and walked past the door.