Likemost readers, I prefer to pretend that second series neverhappened. This is a new adventure featuring the originalMantra. You do not need any prev...ous knowledge of thecharacter to follow this story.MANTRA: DAY OF THE STORM GODBy BobH(c) 2002. BERLIN: April 30th, 1945.From his position behind one of the piles of rubble thatvied with the fires and bomb craters to be this batteredcity's most ubiquitous feature, the man in the shadowswatched his prey through narrowed eyes. To those who. He fucked my face as his shit plopped down into the toilet. The smellwas revolting. Once a bit of toilet water splashed up hitting my chin.Finally he shot his load into the back of my mouth pulled my head away."Open your mouth and show me," he said with a mocking voice.I didn't look at him but kept my eyes focused on his cock since that'swhat I've been taught but I knew he was looking at his dick snot on mytongue. I have learned men don't shoot the same amount of spunk. Someof the men are more. ..I'm here, look at me, I want to feel your eyes on me...One man on the water taxi gave me a curious look. My skirt came up again. He blinked, camera in hand....you see me, oh you DO see me...The boat started it's turn around the end of the pier to its dock. The man licked his lips. He raised his camera halfway. ...you KNOW, don't you...The wind gusted, caressing my thighs, making me shiver. The man brought the camera up, focused....you WANT me to be bad, don't you...I saw the flash of. A. C. Birthdays are supposed to be a grand day. You’re supposed to wake up in the morning and find your family doting over you and wishing you well while your breakfast is being made and the delicious smells draw you out of your restful slumber. At least…that’s what I have been telling myself for the last few years. I woke to the familiar sights and sounds of my room and an empty house. But what should I have expected? It was already 9:30 in the morning and the sun was already shining.