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Life seemed easy after that. With only three of them to service, and none of them using either her pussy or her ass, it almost seemed like a vacation. The novelty had worn off for them, and they seemed to move into a more relaxed two-weeks-to-kill-no-hurry mode. She still barely slept for the first couple of nights because her breasts itched so ferociously and they bound her hands behind her before they slept so she could not scratch. But she did sleep some and more each night.
She would find herself eating her dinner, sucking table scraps out of the mud, and realize that she didn't mind. It became second nature for her to grovel and beg to suck cock; they came so much quicker when she humiliated herself. After the worst of the mosquito bite itching had passed, Bill caused her only tears in days by successfully using every one of his thousand clothespins on her. She found she could not even cry for missing her son anymore, though in her idle time, which she had a fair amount of, she tried to think of nothing else.