..honey, look, this is how it is. I know. No I...Honey..." he can't get a word in. "Look, this is my job, it's what I do. It's how I pay for the lives...we lead. It's how the kids go to camp and we go on vacation and it hasn't changed in the fifteen years we've been together so please, just leave it alone." He listens to his wife's rambling speech and looks around the room."It's worse than ever. The work came in later than usual and I don't see how I'll ever get it all finished." He knows this to. Someone had a souvenir.My blouse was sticky, covered with the juices of all those rapes. Every man that fucked me used my blouse to clean his cock and several had used it to wipe the mess from my pussy before they fucked me.I stepped into my skirt. I reluctantly put my sticky blouse on and staggered out of the booth and down the short flight of stairs. People, mostly men but a few women were browsing through the racks of slutty clothing. They looked at me with a strange combination of amusement. More

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