I loosen my grip a little and let you get on with your work like a good whore. You come up for air again and a small smear of blood flows down my shaf... when you spit on it. I must have torn you a little when I forced it inside you and you can taste blood at the back of your throat. I can feel the energy build up inside me, I’m about to explode. I pull you up by your hair and a little drool goes down the wrong way. I slap you across the face again. “You alright.” You catch your breath then. Years could be spend straightening this out.“What are they doing?” he asked.“I don’t know. I’d guess they are doing whatever needs to be done.”The problem was that they didn’t look or act like slave labor. Usually, refugees who were being used as slave labor looked a lot worse than these folks. Actually, they looked better than most of the refugees he’d ever seen. There were even smiles on their faces while working.The driver said, “I don’t understand what you mean.”“Hearth Ramya will give you. More

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