”“My pleasure, slave,” Master L answered.My mind eased some by the conversation with Master L, I went about my daily routine of work and writing... working on a second part for a story I’d written several weeks earlier. A week passed quietly, and I began to hope that Master K had decided that he’d had his fun and moved on. Then came the day that I fired up the computer and the message was waiting for me. Master K would see me that night at a certain downtown club at 8PM. I decided not to answer. Jason and Brenda were dancing, but stopped when Sylvia and Paul appeared. ‘Hey, far out!’ Paul exclaimed. ‘Party time! But you gotta put on some good music, not that crap!’ Without asking permission, he walked to the CD player, shut it off, and began looking through the collection of CDs until he found some he liked. He loaded them in the machine and turned it on. Loud rock music began thumping through the house. He had the volume turned up so far the walls were shaking to the heavy bass. Music played through our home. Carmanjelo, Carter, and Ryan, all beta-males, worked the party serving drinks and horderves. Carmanjelo was real popular with the bimbo wives, their eyes kept falling on him as they giggled. They were all so beautiful.A pair were kissing in the corner, large tits pressed together, hands gripping each other’s arms while their husbands watched in obvious delight. It wouldn’t be long before it descended into an orgy. Bimbos were like that. So horny and such airheads. He remembered it from when he was younger. The continent was now ninety nine percent desert with only a small fraction on the western coast and a three hundred kilometre space in the midst of that hellacious void habitable. ‘That is how he got there. Why he stays there is another story.’ ‘I had no idea, sweetie.’ ‘No one does. Except for you and for me.’ ‘I see.’ ‘Why do you cry, Indira?’ ‘For you, my love.’ ‘Why for me?’ ‘Because the pain and bravery to tell that story is too much for me.’ She.
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