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After that, he tied her hands together behind her head and told her she could sleep (she looked like shit, and felt worse). Even lying bare on a coarse rock it the hot sun she was asleep in no time. She knew she was going to burn, that he wanted her to burn, and was helpless to prevent it. She could only try to make it evenly bad, and so tried to wake up often to change positions. But her ass was already a little burnt and protecting that, she entered deep sleep flat on her back, the puddings of her ghostly white breasts on broil. He smiled at that.
When she awoke, sweat dripping off her back, she knew she'd been too long on her back. He bid her good morning and asked her if she was ready for lunch or whether she wanted to catch more rays. She didn't have a choice, and that was the way he wanted it. Her "lunch" had partially separated into stringy clots of day-old sperm clinging to the pot, covered by a slightly milky broth. It smelled rotten. The protein had already begun breaking down and the yeasty pussy juice made it worse. She thought she was going to heave.