Hello everyone, I'm coming down off a 3 day visit and over the weekend and was thinking of sharing some of my experience here. Here's a start, if there's interest I may continue....
Yesterday afternoon, I arrived home to an empty house, stripped off, took a warm bath and the moment my head hit the pillow I crashed for a couple of hours. Thankfully mom's away at some Real Estate convention for a few more days so I'll have time recover.
I was still in my towel when I woke on top of my covers. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and remembered I was home. Gosh I was hungry and sore, I mean I knew I'd be sore, somehow I'm never prepared for how it really feels to ache inside and out. I opened my towel to look at myself and the bruises on my body. It's a map of the last 3 days.
3 days of being used as my owners toy. A plaything for a group of grown men. I'm trying to remember how I got each one, a grab? Slap? Pinch? Who was responsible for the mark? J (my owner)? One of his crew? I remember some but mostly it's a fog. The ones on my wrists and forearms are from being held down. My breasts get allot of attention and I'm quite bruised there too, from fingers digging into me and slaps.
Describing the first few hours is easy, the rest like I said is foggy, mainly because it becomes a whirlwind of black faces, hands, cocks and lack of sleep.
Even getting to DC was not without its humiliation. As instructed, I had my collar packed in my carry on, which went through security and of course I was "randomly" selected by TSA to have my bags checked. Was it really random? I don't know. The letters in the collar are made of metal so maybe someone saw it come up on x-ray machine and had to see who it belonged to. Just my luck a black TSA agent asked "does this bag belong to you miss?" omgosh my heart began to race. He walked me over to the end of the line, I swear he looked over his shoulder at his buddies as I walked over. Another agent swabbed my hands with that little white patch of damp paper, they said it was to test for chemicals. Then a lady TSA agent and the black male TSA agent walked me to a private room. I was pretty freaked out. She patted me down then they opened my bag and removed a few items and put it on the metal table. Toiletries and such...then he picked up my collar read what it said "Black Owned"...looked at me...grinned and showed it to the lady TSA agent then put it on the table and looked at me again. I averted my eyes. I was SO embarrassed....humiliated. They let me re-pack my bag, which I did as quickly as possible dying to get out of that unbearable situation.
Don't forget to vote above if you want to read more...
Yesterday afternoon, I arrived home to an empty house, stripped off, took a warm bath and the moment my head hit the pillow I crashed for a couple of hours. Thankfully mom's away at some Real Estate convention for a few more days so I'll have time recover.
I was still in my towel when I woke on top of my covers. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and remembered I was home. Gosh I was hungry and sore, I mean I knew I'd be sore, somehow I'm never prepared for how it really feels to ache inside and out. I opened my towel to look at myself and the bruises on my body. It's a map of the last 3 days.
3 days of being used as my owners toy. A plaything for a group of grown men. I'm trying to remember how I got each one, a grab? Slap? Pinch? Who was responsible for the mark? J (my owner)? One of his crew? I remember some but mostly it's a fog. The ones on my wrists and forearms are from being held down. My breasts get allot of attention and I'm quite bruised there too, from fingers digging into me and slaps.
Describing the first few hours is easy, the rest like I said is foggy, mainly because it becomes a whirlwind of black faces, hands, cocks and lack of sleep.
Even getting to DC was not without its humiliation. As instructed, I had my collar packed in my carry on, which went through security and of course I was "randomly" selected by TSA to have my bags checked. Was it really random? I don't know. The letters in the collar are made of metal so maybe someone saw it come up on x-ray machine and had to see who it belonged to. Just my luck a black TSA agent asked "does this bag belong to you miss?" omgosh my heart began to race. He walked me over to the end of the line, I swear he looked over his shoulder at his buddies as I walked over. Another agent swabbed my hands with that little white patch of damp paper, they said it was to test for chemicals. Then a lady TSA agent and the black male TSA agent walked me to a private room. I was pretty freaked out. She patted me down then they opened my bag and removed a few items and put it on the metal table. Toiletries and such...then he picked up my collar read what it said "Black Owned"...looked at me...grinned and showed it to the lady TSA agent then put it on the table and looked at me again. I averted my eyes. I was SO embarrassed....humiliated. They let me re-pack my bag, which I did as quickly as possible dying to get out of that unbearable situation.
Don't forget to vote above if you want to read more...
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