“Well, girls! No more fucking sitting around enjoying yourself,” barked Ralph. “It’s back to the fucking shop floor with you two. And no fucki...g shirking off either, you bitches! Don’t think that a bit of fun upstairs brings you whores any fucking special privileges.” Buttercup and Tracey were then led back to the shop floor, semen still over their faces and dripping down their thighs, through a cordon of male office-workers who leered and grinned lasciviously at them as they passed by. One. "Yeah," I nodded. "And I don't even know how long we're gonna be there. I mean if it sucks, or if Deb or Heather doesn't like it then we're just gonna split, you know?" So? I could go then, right?" Jen stared at me and I groaned inwardly, realizing I'd just offered her up an excuse on a silver platter."You wouldn't like these guys, Jen," I told her, trying to make her understand."It's your boyfriend, right? I never even met that guy. Come on, Sam! Please? Why do you act all weird all the time?". More

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