My legs, arms, and breasts covered. My nipples rising taut against what’s left of my bra and shirt. I hear the air before the impact. My eyes squeez... even tighter, bracing myself.“Two. Thank you Sir.”“How many days has it been?” His voice is much deeper now. It takes on a warmth. Not sentiment, pure tone, deep and delicious. If chocolate had a sound. It would be his voice.I think to myself a moment, checking my answer several times in my head before finally whimpering, “5 Sir.”“Oh. My good. ’ Flashes of the night before pushed their way to the fore of Draga’s thoughts. She shuddered visibly before managing to temporarily push the memory form her mind. It was a nice bright day. She was with friends of the family. Friends who happened to be acquainted with destruction as an artform. Friends who, it occurred to her, seemed rather… satisfied at the prospect of a global plague of the walking dead. At any rate, a pleasant day amongst friends. And some biker chick. She took a deep, slow. More

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