“What’s she saying?” You ask me needlessly, because she’s unintelligible. “Lick her ass ready for me,” you say, and she tenses up a little, but my finger on her clit distracts her. They were interesting days. You’re inside her, and your hands are holding her like in a vice. You wanted it hard, whore. Now my prisoner must no longer hear my voice. Now you’ve got it hard. I lick her labia slowly and thoroughly, and my index finger penetrates her lightly. Good. She tries to lie down on her stomach again, but it’s too late. Because if people see us like this, there’ll be trouble. “Don’t get me wrong, getting fucked by the dog is fantastic. When she finally stands in front of the mirror in her apartment, looking for wounds, she’ll realize that exactly what she never would have thought of had happened. But then you’ll have it behind you. Even the thing she hates and fears the most. “What’s she saying?” You ask me needlessly, because she’s unintelligible. We drive back in silence, and I leave any further contact with the prisoner in Paris’ experienced hands. It looks like a trench coat on her. As you leave the room, I turn to the woman. “Take the whore away,” you say contentedly, and I know you couldn’t wish for a
