Set out to pick their own weapons of ass destruction, two of his comrades dissolved into a heaping mass of tears before they suffered the first blow. ...They begged for mercy, leaving Donald and Chris, the other remaining slave, to offer any part of their bodies for abuse. Chris lasted about a minute before he succumbed to the pain and cried out for them to stop. He was defeated. Donald stood proud. From the moment he entered the opera house he’d felt insignificant, unremarkable. For the. Turning to straddle him, I slipped my hands beneath his shirt and nibbled on that sensitive muscle tensing just below his jaw. I could taste the warmth of his flesh, and from somewhere deep in my memory the smell of Polo filled my nose. Soon we were pawing at each other, his fingers down the front of my jeans, my blouse unbuttoned, and my nipples pressed against his. And then, there were headlights. We gasped, ducked our heads, thankful at least for the light tint on the. More

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