So, you understand that nothing that is said must leave this room.”Ramirez turned back to Luc and nodded. Luc continued.“So, I will need to borrow...your computer for a moment, and I have a few questions I need to ask. Would you mind? I should not need to look at anything personal.”Luc made a gesture of offering to trade seats with the man. He nodded and agreed. They switched chairs and Luc brought up the screen.“Now, my first question ... I am sorry, I haven’t even asked your name yet, sir.”“Uh,. ?You’re not getting in that way, not unless your cock is iron, which it isn’t, flabby dick.??You know what, cunt, maybe you’re right.? He had edged over and picked up a rope lying on the floor near the bed. He gave up on her legs, slid forward and put his full weight pinning her face and chest into the bed. She grunted in protest into the sheets.?Oh, does that hurt? I’m sorry, but face it, you’re just a hole to me.? Using his legs and weight to hold her down he got one wrist back up on her. And then asks, “What’s your occupation?”“I’m a prostitute,” she says.The accountant is taken aback and says, “That’s too gross. Let’s try to re-phrase that.”The woman says, “OK, I’m a high-end call girl.”“No, that still won’t work. Need something more acceptable.”They both think for a minute; then the woman says, “I’m an elite poultry farmer.”The accountant asks, “What does poultry farming have to do, with being a prostitute?”“Well, I raised a thousand cocks last year.”Chartered Acct :. Despite her home environment, the nuns at Saint Veronica's had done a good job in instilling a sense of English syntax with liberal applications of a ruler on the back of her delicately formed hands.She didn't advertise her heritage much to her friends and associates because it seemed like such a matter was her own personal business. It was not that she was ashamed at all; it just created a situation in which people started asking her too many personal questions. He hid the fact that she could.