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These lucky visitors I see are still slaves, but slaves whose bondage is temporary. They will not have their faces marked, although if their registered owner does wish for a Big Tits permanent memento, there are still places on the station where the masters can have their property implanted. Private slaves, i.e. those not owned by the planet, have to wear bracelets locked on mature a wrist, registered with their DNA and linking them to their owner. The information is filed with the Slaver authorities and blowjob bracelets are checked frequently. A woman cannot “fake” an owner. There are a number of different garments worn by private slaves. The most common is the wrap, like mine, but in navy-blue. It is greatly coveted by the many Slaver-owned girls, that blue wrap. Wearing blue means you’re not destined to go down to the planet. Wearing that means you’ll leave this hellhole. For a few females, coming here is even a strange form of tourism – women who crave to briefly experience a reality where they are nothing but owned objects of desire, and they venture here with trusted escorts, deliberately seeking time in the bracelet and the navy blue slave teen clothing. I can guess who these lucky ones are by their threesome expressions, which are flushed with excitement and lack the dead-eyed manner of the others. When I look at those among my fellows who are true slaves, I wonder if I look as broken as they. Two drunks stagger past, singing, and almost knock us aside. The relaxed attitude of the men on the concourse differs dramatically from the women. Aghara-Penthay is a popular destination for male ship crews who flock here here to relax, get laid and enjoy the sight of so many scantily dressed females. Ja-alixxe and I pass a typical crew in dirty overalls, sitting drinking alcohol, and I am recognized for the first time. “Melena de Santo,” a mechanic covered in oil calls out to me jovially. “It’s really you. The news said they’d caught you, but I didn’t quite believe it.” He adds with gleeful unconcern, “Man, you’re in for a rough time.” His weedy looking colleague, a fellow perhaps still in his late teens, is groaning with longing as he blatantly looks me over and I feel shamefully aware of my body, of my femininity. “Whoa, she’s even hotter in real life. Oh, check out her legs,” he says reverentially, staring at my bare limbs with unabashed lust. “Why can’t I ever get with a girl with legs like that?” “Legs?” his shipmate scoffs. “Are you queer? Check out her titties. Those have got to be the best titties you’ll find in a thousand light years.” With my face growing hot I try to hurry past, wishing the floor would swallow me up, but our guards are enjoying the status of escorting a celebrity. I am blocked from moving further on and have to wait in my chains, prolonging their demeaning inspection. “Who is the other one?” another of the flight crew is asking as he indicates Ja-alixxe. “Quite a body on her, as well.” This seemed more thrilling than a blowjob. I plowed into her, loving the way she was wrapped about me. threesome It felt incredible. 0667 - Marco - Brown She opened her mouth I told Jenn she wasn’t intruding and she was welcome to stay, we have pizza and a movie. “Is that her?” she asked me in her deep Texas drawl. I..." All that’s left is the skirt. "I would like to get back on the road I have stayed to long in one place for my liking I'm afraid." Our little stud started an uncontrolled moan, while panting and flexing his tight little body, in response to his long slow fucking. They burned so bright. blowjob It snagged briefly, but she pulled it a little wider and kept on, relieved Big Tits to realize it hadn't adhered at all to the veiny skin. I stood a teen few mature feet back, enjoying the spectacle, my penis at full attention. Only the hollows of their eyes, and the impressions of their mouths remained on their withered faces, giving them an expression of perpetual horror.