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The thought that I would tell LaShonda I wanted a divorce as soon as we were alone. She wasn't fighting his attentions and I couldn't believe how slutty my normally shy wife was being, allowing my commanding officer to do this to her.I started to wonder if this wasn't the first time that she had acted this way. Maybe she had been screwing someone behind my back all along."You're wet enough to be fucked now, you dirty little black slut, aren't you?" Colonel Rose whispered.LaShonda didn't answer."Did you hear me?" he snapped."Yes, Colonel Rose," LaShonda meekly responded."What are you?" he went he on. "Tell me!" I'm your dirty black slut and I need to be fucked," she panted. All the time he was groping her tits and pushing two of his fingers in and out of her pussy.LaShonda was groaning and writhing in his lap. He turned to me and asked me what I thought of my wife. He had caught me off guard and I blurted, "She's a whore, Colonel Rose."He stood up and towered above her small body and. ”He seemed to be avoiding looking directly at her, and after their terse exchange, he returned his attention entirely to the task of scattering seed for the hens to peck at. “Well, goodbye then,” said Rose, a little more loudly than necessary. “I shall look forward to dinner.” With nothing better to do, she returned to the library to find something to read.Predictably, dinner was torment. After an unending stretch of clattering cutlery, avoided looks and polite requests to pass the salt, they found themselves sitting opposite one another wondering where to begin. It was The Beast who spoke first: “You have more questions. Ask and I shall answer, as truthfully as I am able.”A fleeting look of dissatisfaction crossed Rose’s face, but whatever the cause, she quickly composed herself. “I suppose I would like to know about what happened after you were cursed,” she said. “How did you come to be living here alone and intimidating wandering a merchant into sending you their daughter to.
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’ I stood still and willed myself not to cry. My body was exhausted and I was painfully hovering on the brink of arousal. My legs were shaking when Master put the bar up to them to measure. I could see I was a good two or more inches off, and when he held the ruler up, he announced that it was 11 centimeters. I whimpered. He looked at me, shocked at the sound. ‘Why did you make that sound, Slave?’ ‘My nipples still hurt from when Brian spanked them, Sir,’ I said. He stood up and slapped my right breast and then the left hard, right at the edge of the nipple. ‘You must be tired, Slave. You called these YOUR nipples. Don’t tell me you need another lesson on who owns your body.’ My eyes flooded with tears and I blubbered, ‘No, Master, please! I meant your nipples, your nipples.’ He ignored the tears and counted out the clips. ‘Besides these aren’t even going on the nipples I own. They are going on the pussy I own’. He pressed two fingers inside the pussy roughly. ‘This is what seems to.

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