The three sisters asked if I would walk them to the hotel. It wasn’t far and it would give their heads a chance to clear. We walked arm in arm, swapping as they staggered along so each got a chance to hold onto me. When we arrived at the hotel I thought that I would say goodnight and then walk home alone, however the girls, my arms hooked in theirs, dragged me up to their room.In the room there was a very large Kings size bed as well as a single, the girls were obviously in one room. When we got in the room the girls let go of me and I must admit I felt like the proverbial spare prick at a wedding as the twins sauntered into the bathroom, whilst one collapsed on the bed, arms high above her head. It seems that it was ages before the twins re-appeared but both came back into the room stark naked. They saw Carol crashed out on the bed, leaped on her and stripped her, roughly. There was a lot of laughing and shouting going on but I was enjoying the view. During the wrestling and Carol’s. Now before you start raising your feminist flags, hear me out. My master wasn't necessary a bad man. No, he was kind and sensitive, he always made sure that I was ok, he provided when we played together. No,no, it wasn't his fault that I ran away. I ran away because I couldn't trust him. I ran away because I wouldn't communicate with him. I ran away because I no longer felt comfortable around him. Life got in the way and I could no longer play the way I used to. I was living on the streets, fending for myself. I was finishing college and working on a campaign. There was just no way I could continue on with so much on my shoulders.And yet some part of me feels guilty that I did it. Did I run away? No, I merely walked and burned the bridge. With him fuming on the other side. And I always imagine one day- one day he would find me. Find me out on those streets by myself. Demand that I get into his car. He would take me someplace, someplace where I could stay and he wouldn't worry about.
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