“Like that, slut?” She felt sick that this man was touching her; the thought that her body was betraying her and responding to his touch was even ...orse. A hard slap landed on her sensitive pussy lips making Charley see stars. “You will answer me, slut! You like your filthy nipples being pulled?” Charley hesitated a moment and three more forceful slaps landed on her wet cunt. “Ah! Yes, yes. I like my nipples being pulled.” She stammered out. As if enjoying his little victory over her he tugged. Sand drifts just in silence, it’s passage measured in heartbeats, it drifts on wind-borne currents. Rhythms of an ancient dance define the random thoughts of drifting sand. Hearts dance to this time, to this other music, as you might say hearts dance to the music of stars. This much we know, but do we really understand? Do we really understand being and becoming? So, from on high – as if we were gods – we watch as shadows cross sand, shadows lost in the music of chance, dancing in the measured. More

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