Just a nice repetitive rhythm. You’re a fucking whore, a fucking whore…and so on. I was getting close, I’d been doing her for a while but wanted...to see if I could pull off one last thing. I leaned in and told her I wanted her to tell me what she was and she did it. Looked me in the eyes and told me she was a whore. I told her husband to come in and listen and told her to say it again. For the first time, she seemed slightly apprehensive. I grabbed her by her nipples and pinched and she blurted. I had no choice. If a guy wanted me to dress up in a ponygirl outfit with a vibrator in my pussy and drive him around Chrystal Heights' Town Square, I did it without a second thought and with a smile on my face."The daytime was a different matter though. During the day, only my vocabulary was regulated. I could do whatever I liked so long as I didn't leave Chrystal Heights and was contented to be a monosyllabic, big breasted, sex-crazed bimbo for the rest of my life."But you'd found a job.". More

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