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“A demon wearing shoes?” one of the deputies asked, crouching down and examining the boots of the man whose eyes had been gouged out.“Say what?�...� the sheriff asked.“Look there, a bloody footprint. The tread doesn’t match any of the shoes here. Someone is unaccounted for.”“So there was a killer,” the mayor gasped.“Or maybe someone taking part in the exorcism. They may be a survivor,” said the sheriff.“Or both,” said the deputy. “Julia Clive was raped, there is blood and semen on her inner thighs.. Scott realized that somewhere else in the hotel was another room, a room to which Ray was taking his Brooke. The computer was, obviously, already logged on to her site or a special site. Within, well, in less than 5 minutes now he would learn what was happening to her.Scott didn't have to wait 5 minutes. Within three minutes, Ray's image--head and shoulders-- appeared on the screen. "Hi. I'm Ray West, the webmaster for Brooke's site. In a couple minutes you will meet Brooke. I know you don't. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember a day when I hadn’t awakened without a hard-on. I was giving some serious thought to raising the window screen so I could jack-off and shoot a load of early morning cum out onto God’s good green earth. This wouldn’t be the first time I’d performed this wake-me-up morning ritual.Hearing the back door slam, I knew Uncle George had stormed out in one of his customary rages. Goddamnit, if that man ever raises a hand to strike Aunt Peggy, I’ll beat the shit. The smokers and stoners always keptthe door propped open so they could slip out and have a secret smoke. Iwas going to end it and get away from this living hell. No more disgustedstares of pity. No more taunts or jeers. No more-REDI was back in Dr. Ross's office, the school psychologist. "How are youfeeling, Tammy?" she asked."Tammy? No, wait, I'm... Tim?" I certainly thought I was Tim. But when Isaid it aloud, my voice was neither certain, nor a boy's."We've been over this, Tammy. There is no.

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I would find it was a habit to turn on a radio sitting on a shelf towards the back of the parlor. The milkers turned the station to some dance music a...d I assumed the cows were okay with that too. The sound of sucking rhythm, dance music, the steam in the air plus the increasing warmth all around; if I closed my eyes and got caught in the mood I was lulled to mis-attention almost immediately. I had to fight that to keep my washing ahead of milkers but I smiled to myself as one of them broke. My voice does not match my appearance so I waved him in. I felt so embarrassed, since I know that I am not quite passable. I led him to the kitchen keeping my robe tightly closed. “What seems to be the problem”, he asked. Oh crap, now I was forced to speak....I softened my voice as best as I could and told him about the garbage disposer. He tried it and said it needed to be replaced and gave me a cost estimate. I said ok and he went about to his work. I sat at the kitchen table sipping my. More

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