The body of Richard Crookback had apparently been brought back to Leicester by the victors for display, but had then disappeared. Richard the Third, a...ias ‘Dick the Shit’, had been one of my favourite historical characters, hunchbacked like Quasimodo, the wicked uncle who’d bumped off the young princes in the Tower, crying ‘My kingdom for a horse’, and of course that wonderful couplet, “The Cat, The Rat, and Lovell our Dog, do rule all of England under the Hog” giving you the name of Richard’s. Radna held her tight, his left arm around her breast's, squeezing, mauling the soft mound his right hand between her open thighs cupping and groping her cunt and arse, "Come on little miss bitch suck him, then you can suck me before we give you to three more who love fucking you and it won't be just once, I'll think we will run and competition just like at church and see who can be the best," he giggled down her ear, "The best at how many time's one of us can fuck you and your mummy".It wasn't. I hear them chattering, asking if I'm going to be alright but I hear a voice in my head saying "Dwight, you've had a rought time. From here on out whatever you want you'll get."That's when it all changed. I got out of the hospital one month later and said "Everybody I deserve to be manager. I want to be MANAGER!" They all stared at me for a second and the search committee said "Of Dwight. We'll call corporate right away." As soon as they said that I began to believe what the voice had said. I. . and suddenly leapt from the table in alarm.She wasn’t alone.In the middle of the room stood a woman; copper-skinned and ravishingly beautiful, her hair long ebony ringlets cascading down her back and sides. As curvaceous as Éowyn was sinewed, her breasts were full and round, their nipples pierced by jeweled circlets reminiscent of Khamûl’s.I mustn’t think of him, she warned herself, even as her sex came alive at the mere thought of his exquisite masculinity. I wonder if they’re from the same.