The small room she was renting contained little but a small bed, a bedside table and a modest wardrobe with broken handles for her to hang her clothes...in. As she looked in the mirror on the door, her dark brown hair resting in waves across her shoulders, she realised she should have done this a long time ago. "No suits, no pervs, no rain, no work. Just me, the sun and the trees," she mumbled to herself as she took off her nightie, throwing it to the bed. Her nipples were still stiff from. ”“Does the Queen usually get gangbanged? Because last night the president of the other chapter stopped everyone from fucking me because you weren’t there to ‘give permission’, apparently.”“Pitbull did that? Remind me to pay him a visit later. You can too if you want. I wouldn’t say ‘usually’, but I ain’t gonna say it hasn’t happened either, my Queen.”She decided to shut up. She didn’t want him thinking she wanted it, nor did she want him thinking she didn’t want it. She had no idea which. More

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