" Jennifer said as shyly as she knew how."What maid?" One of the maids my mistress." Was it the one who kicked you in the face several days ago?" the ...istress asked."Yes my mistress." Damned bitch. I wonder what she has done. Come with me. You, bring that tray." the mistress instructed the maid to bring the now empty tray.Jennifer complied, beginning to wonder what was going on. She was led out of the building across a compound. The sun felt good as it warmed her naked body. The compound was a. Fucking for the Game was a mission. It was a mission she was determined to complete successfully. She rationalized that her slutty behavior was okay because it was a means to an end. God could forgive her for that. But with the boys who didn't count for whatever technicality, or the grown men who used her in Mr. Senders' office, there was no way to rationalize the way she responded to the sex.She was beginning to fear that she really was a slut at heart. She prayed on it every night and often. I felt like a hitter when Sandy was there. I even forgot, a couple of times, to put on my Captain America goggles when I went up to the plate.But when Sandy wasn't there, I felt a little empty. Hard to admit something like that. It was like being kind of weak: it made me feel effeminate, even, although I knew there were plenty of women around who were as strong-willed as the strongest man.Whatever it was, I felt it. Maybe if Sandy wasn't around, my hitting slump would wear off, all on its own,. I took the lift up to his house. I was very nervous as I approached the door.I rang the doorbell and he opened the door. He warmly smiled at me and I felt better.He was wearing a nice t-shirt and shorts and I could see his big and hairy arms and legs through his clothes. He looked much bigger and taller than me.As I walked into his house, he greeted me and gave me a hug. He pressed my face on his chest because of the size difference and I could smell his manly smell. The nervousness went down.
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