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He looked like he was trying to say something that began with the letter "O", and then his lips froze, too. "Well, that was fun, Pinkie," my Muse said to the immobile Steve, "but I think it's time to pull the plug on your abuses." She reached forward and pushed on Steve's stomach right where his navel would have been. To my surprise, a small tube popped out. My Muse flipped the end of this tube and I heard something start to hiss. Then I noticed that Steve was starting to deflate. "Oh. The laundry will pick them up in the morning. The laundry business, as you might imagine, is very good here." With that she hugged Marcy and said, "Good luck, Ciao," and she was gone.Marcy was alone. She seemed almost in a daze as she pulled the top drawer in the old dresser out. It was stuffed full of frilly things.She chose a teddy, a black teddy, that she thought looked cute. She hung up the jacket in the armoire, stepped out of her jeans and slipped the T shirt over her head. The teddy left. He looks down over her body and snorts again, his face grimacing. He spits on her and grunts. “Filth.” Grabbing her roughly he flips her over, her flailing limbs hardly slowing him down as he then presses her hard face down into the ground. His big hand palming the side of her head as he pushed her down into the earth.He takes her from behind hard and rough. She cries in pain as he grunts and huffs through his rape of this woman.The way he held, her head held turned in his heavy hand, her cheek. It was a small white building set on the hillside to overlook the pastures below. To the north of the house was a large barn, and in the rear of the barn were visible an orchard, springhouse, and sheep fields. As we drew nearer, I spied overgrown gardens surrounding the house. Discarded tin pails, remnants of farm tools, and broken pottery littered the short path from the road to the side of the house. A few dirty windows peered out from the heavily weathered daub that covered the outside of.
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