"Makes a very good little waitress, don't you, Lucy my dear?" The slight, dark eyed, girl nodded warily, prevented from answering by the ball gag that...filled her mouth. Basher turned back towards me, "I'm sure she'll manage to atone for the faults of her countryman." Countryman?" I asked, knowing that this would only lead to another diatribe from the xenophobic Snell."Jackson, Peter Jackson," Basher said with a sneer. "Has the nerve to take an English story and high-jack it to the southern. His casual lust excites me and I clench my thighs around my cunt every time I feel his gaze.Hervé says to me, looking at my eyes for the first time since lunch, "We will want you to witness our signatures." Of course," I say. My words are perhaps the sixth or seventh words I have spoken since we first came to the building. I watch as the men sign their names to the document then, at a gesture from Hervé go around the desk beside his chair and lean forward to sign my name as witness. I feel his. More

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