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Something, he vowed to himself, that would never happen again. "He made me like this," the girl said. "Manuel. He did this to me." Hesitantly, Alex touched one of the fresh burns on her ass. She flinched, but didn't try to move away. His fingers riffled the hair between her legs and gently stroked the swollen lips of her vagina. |
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The girl shivered, stretched her legs rigid. "Can't you stay just a little longer?" she pleaded. "Por favor!"
"No," Alex said. "No." And he whirled and fled the room before he gave in to his weakness and said yes.
Chapter 11
Time had ceased to have meaning for Renee and Fran. Only Manuel's comings and goings marked changes in their routine that they could recognize as time.
Each time it was the same. Before the shot, the Mexican would fuck them brutally.
Renee swallowed, feeling her saliva gulped down her throat moving like a large, fuzzy tennis ball. Now, she didn't know how she could live without heroin, without the needle.
Hopefully she watched the door, craning her head. She was so accustomed to the straps that she didn't try to move her bound hand and foot anymore. It was automatic to work around them.
God! It had been a long time since Manuel had come. Her lips were dry, but Renee felt the perspiration dotting her face and body. Once, earlier, Manuel had been late. Renee thought then she was going to die. But now it was worse, much worse.
"Manuel! Manuel!" Fran was writhing on her own bed, sobbing the Mexican's name as her anguish rose. At first the two women talked. They seldom spoke to each other anymore.