The name said Bambi Goodliegh and the sex box was marked F. I reached between my legs and felt my new pussy, I was, without a doubt, Bambi a good lay,...now. He finally dumped the car near New York City. He told me that I could earn him some real money here. I had asked him if he knew that he was really my wife and I was really his husband? He said that we used to be that way, but now he was my pimp and I was his whore and I was going to earn my keep. I could faintly hear my pussy rings jingle as. They weren’t admiring looks though, in fact most look quite startled. One even said, “Beccy, I thought there was a dress code?” I followed her gaze and looked straight at Beccy who looked less than amused and at that moment I realised I had made a bad mistake. “Sssorry,” I stammered. It didn’t help. “Laura,” Beccy said sternly, “What did I tell you about how to dress?” I flinched. “Sorry Beccy, I’ll get changed, I’ll go now.” I turned only to hear Beccy shout firmly, “Do not leave the room. More

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