I was pushed to the farthest corner of the compartment.Now the door was impossible to reach.Men were pushing & shoving to get a better view & everyone...was trying to come further ahead in the crowd which was forming to fuck me.There were almost 500 men in that compartment & I knew that even if less than half of them ****d me I would be almost dead.Many of the men had their mobile phone cameras aimed at me as tears began flowing down my cheeks.I had my back towards the barred window, the seats. Estelle femininely took a drag on her cigarette and exhaled a fineplume of smoke from between her heavily-lipsticked, red, shiny lips.As Marcus watched his whore smoking obediently before him, he startedto become erect - Estelle was his perfect sex doll - and he reached outcasually to cup and tickle her balls through her silk panties.Estelle moaned with pleasure at Marcus' touch. "No, Daddy, please don'ttouch me, it's so rude and naughty, Daddy," she pleaded in a whiningvoice."Shut the fuck up,. It was about the dark-haired girl in the photos. She was Airlea Chronis, an orphan eleven, whose parents had immigrated to the US from Greece and had settled in Chicago, only to be murdered in a botched home invasion robbery. She had been eight at the time and had not spoken a word since, nor had she been able to tolerate crowds or large numbers of people without suffering panic attacks. In the few months Roksana had been in the foster home, she had befriended Airlea and they were inseparable.. ” “How did this get here?” I asked as I took the first cylinder and laid it near the balloon. “I will explain later,” she replied as she climbed back out of the hole, “but for now we must hurry.” She walked over to the nearby bushes, throwing branches aside to reveal a hidden wicker basket. Under her instructions we soon had the cylinders attached to the basket and the balloon fabric in place along the ground. She twisted the wheels on the first cylinder and with a hiss and a click a plume of.