I just imagined her milky white boobs and her booty. Her juggling peach when she went running back to her room was the most beautiful scene of my life.I kept imagining this and started beating my own meat. I released my load imaging her and went back to sleep. When I woke up at 5, I saw a message from bhabhi saying, “Tonight I won’t be cooking. I’ll order something from Swiggy. Tell me what you want to eat. I’ll inform you when the food arrives.”I told her what I want to eat. At 9, she texted me, saying, “Food has arrived.” I went downstairs to have dinner. I wasn’t even able to make eye contact with her. I was so ashamed. I was quietly eating my dinner. After we finished our dinner, I wished her good night and decided to leave.But then she said, “Wait, I’ve got some alcohol for us, you wanna drink with me?” I said, “Sure.” Then I asked her, “You wanna smoke some stuff as well? I already have two joints already rolled in my flat.” She replied, “Sure! Go and bring it and come fast.” I. The next day, she handed her over to a Yemeni trader, who raped her that very evening; on finding she had been a virgin, he got very angry and lashed her for not telling him. He would have made more money selling her untouched apparently.After two masters, each one worse than the previous one, she ended up with Al-Mansour. She could not understand Lila, or her devotion to the master that traded her to the sheik.In an effort to be as far away from the steps leading to the outside, Aisha crept, slowly, hesitantly, to the dungeon proper again. Even there, her feet kept trying to lead her out, to the sun, to the faint hope of freedom. Trying to distract herself, she examined the cross where, she assumed, Lila would suffer some kind of torture, in the near future.It was an ordinary St. Andrews cross, with heavy iron manacles at the top and bottom, to hold the ankles and wrists. The manacles shut with an automatic latch, needing no keys. Aisha extended her arms and legs along the cross.
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