His partner—also not the hung, hot guard I wanted— pointed his concussion rifle at me as I freely offered my hands to the brute. "Try not to pinch...my tits this time." I smiled with the request. He slapped the grav-cuffs onto my wrists and they whipped together, pinching my breasts in exactly the way I'd asked him not to. If there was one thing I hated about being imprisoned above the low-quality food, the beatings, the casual abuse, and of course, the smell, it was almost never being allowed. She had a blue coloured, almost see through nighty on. Although not enough light to appreciate her form, she still looked amazing. I looked away, and I said, “Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t drink. Are you okay? Is Derick okay?” She took a sip of her wine, and said, “Why do you look away…soldier. Am I not attractive to a young red blooded male anymore?” I was very embarrassed, still looked away as I said, “Yes, ma’am. You are attractive, ma’am, but you are my best friend’s mum.” She placed a. More

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