I really want to give you guys as many details of the next couple hours, but there isn't a whole lot that isn't fuzzy. I was in the stockade for quite...some time, but I couldn't say how long. While I was there, the doorbell rang at least another seven or eight times. If the room was full before, now it was packed. There were conversations everywhere, the dull buzz of a party, really, and in the middle of it, I was getting fucked constantly. There was a dick in my mouth constantly. Not a soul. I had to explain to the cemetery gardener why I didn't want it trimmed every week; the flowers had to mature and seed, or do whatever they were supposed to do in order to return the following year, but he understood and was happy to leave that one grave to me to tend.Time passed, erratically, for me on my own. Our children were married and living elsewhere – one in Cornwall, another in Cumbria. Convenient for holidays, to be sure, but even with frequent phone calls, another reason to be lonely.. I turned away, fiddling with the camera.“Over by the window,” I said. I had to clear my throat. Somehow every bit of saliva had been sucked out of my mouth into the surrounding air.She got up and I watched as she walked to the window. I had seen her walk from this place to that at least ten thousand times, but it had never been like this. Those breasts swayed and bounced.I suddenly realized that I was in my usual sleep attire ... my jockeys. I looked down and, in horror, saw that it looked like. No wonder really, as Rose had been picking her ass most of the morning.Belinda put a pair of white, lacy, baby tights on me, followed by a pretty, white, satin, baby grow. Then white booties and gloves. I sucked harder on Rose's finger. My head had been shaved and a large, white bib was put around my neck, followed by a white, baby bonnet. Belinda smiled at me with a her pretty face. Rose removed her finger from my mouth and untied my hands. Belinda lifted me into the baby, high chair."Well!.
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