I logged off of the campus network and stared at my notebook for a second longer. I realized that my notes cut off mid-thought. Gripping my pencil, I ...egan to scribble some closing remarks.All of the sudden, a hand cramp forced me to drop my pencil. I'd been writing so much today and it seemed my wrist could take no more. I began to massage the cramp, but instead of going away, it quickly intensified, not just in my writing hand, but in the other hand too.A tingle in my abdomen and the. Now only the really well-off can afford one..." It's all the fault of the fucking government!" snorted Chubby who, despite his name, was unusually skinny and whose other most prominent feature was the scattering of tattoos and piercings on his gaunt face."You blame everything on the government," said Cherry."That's 'cause almost everything is their fault," Chubby asserted. "They fucked it up with Europe and the United fucking Kingdom. They fucked it up with civil rights, the economy, the. The men outside the door were four of Dubkova's guards. Dubkova must not have allowed the doors to be opened. They were certainly strong enough to resist the men. I wanted to take the guards but not by killing them. The chain was strung up on some furniture and I stepped back into the apartment. The girls were well armed. Everybody but a few were off fighting.My interpreter was healing well but not really able to fight yet. I said to him, "Come with me." He got up and I added, "Do you have a. It may have been the Merlot or it may have been my demanding cunt, but when we got all snuggled up, Thomas and I in the love seat and Monique and Patrice on the couch I blurted out. “So you two want to join our little fuck club do you?” Patrice’s eyes shot wide open but Monique smiled coyly and settled back into the cushion. Her legs parted visibly and she nodded graciously. Patrice stammered.“Well, yes, yes, we’ve enjoyed everyone that we’ve met and it’s the type of thing, the type of thing.