His hands were bound backwards. He lay silent on the concrete floor. The room was dusty and hot. A sneezing sensation pertained. A dirty cotton cloth, probably someone's underwear was stuffed into his mouth. It was too dirty and muddy, its salt and mud tingling his taste buds. The room was dark; the brick awning seldom let any light to penetrate through. He doesn't know how long he has been there. Hours or days. His eyes were adjusted in the dark but he could see only the dark figure crouched in front of him.
It’s not a girl! Where’s Jasmine? He missed her. He wouldn't mind being kidn*pped if she were with him. He wanted to feel her, measure every inch of her tender body, penetrate into her with passion and feral instincts.
What happened after the car left the airport? Did someone kidna
