"He's given you ten times your usual fee. You don't know what it means. You are one good fucking singer. You don't know if he wants to fuck you or jus... likes your music. You need to find out."Anna undressed and went to bed, but couldn't sleep. She struggled all night about what to do. Her husband wasn't going to let this drop. He pestered her all morning to do something.Anna got out his business card and dialed Donnie's number. "Donnie; High; this is Anna, Anna Marie Munson. I was at your house. "I cannot hear you, bitch!” He insisted. “Who is the boss now?" You are!" I squealed, with a mixture of pain and pleasure…“You are the fucking Boss…” I said again, feeling so humiliated. "Who is?" He asked again, as he picked up speed with his thrust."You are... you filthy nigger… you are the Boss…” I cried.Tyrrell managed to slide nearly all of his eleven inches in my anus.He gave my poor asshole long deep thrusts at a fast pace.The bastard was destroying my ass; he was enjoying doing it…I. "OK" sighed Mindy. She wandered around, looking at pictures on the wall, and the knick knacks Bob had ammased over the years. She picked up a pair of handcuffs and peered at them, looking at her Uncle and then back to the cuffs.Cora answered after two rings. "Hi sweets, it's me" said Bob. "Mindy had her date drop her off here. I think we're going to talk for a while and then I'll bring her home. Hmmmm? Sure, I'll get her."He held out the phone to Mindy who rolled her eyes and took it, putting. I go back to my corner and sit down. I can’t think of what to say to that. * * * She shuffles along the broken pavement with awkward steps – I’ve cut the tape off her ankles, but bound her knees so she can’t run. We’re nearing Assiniboine Park – the hazy-gray border between the girl’s territory and ours. I should just kill her. Might get promoted back to Spy for it. Far, far up ahead, I spy a pair of torches burning. We stop. ‘Are they yours?’ I ask. She doesn’t answer. I flip out my.