I held out until about eleven thirty that second day, but curiosity got the better of me and I went to see her, the stench hit me like a sledge hammer, and I nearly vomited, but she looked so sweet, her broken body trapped in my prison, my erection strained and I stood before her and as she silently watched I undid my pants and asked, “Do you like it?”
She shook her head, “Please, don’t rape me” she croaked. Indian hot xxx “Its Saturday,” I announced. Even agency prostitutes struggle to survive in Mugabe’s wonderland. “No, please.”
I released her from her prison again, and she collapsed onto her side and lay still, I fetched a horse whip and gently coaxed her into movement by taps on her legs and buttocks. Even agency prostitutes struggle to survive in Mugabe’s wonderland. “It’s flat Cider.” I took the bowl and drank some myself, it was apple juice. “Its horrible.”
“Worse than piss.?” I asked, she nodded. The girl spent hours on Miss Reilly’s hair, plaiting it like a natives, leaving areas of bare scalp between the rows of plaits, slowly transforming her from western woman to native whore. “Heroin” I lied. “Yes”
“Shall I piss in you mouth?”
She paused before she said no, it spoke volumes, she might last beyond Saturday after all.
