Chapter Fourteen
Though I hate coke, but, it was the right thing to do. For I have to remember, he is a man, sorta a big man, fueled by drugs, a hard d**k, and I feel super duper alert. I smile, as he kneels before me and cuts the tape from my wrists and ankles that feel numb.
Fucking free at last, thank god free at last. A great black dude once said that.
Now, he may be Dracula reincarnate, but he’s no dummy. So he stands, backs up, fondling my baby Baretta in his hand as I let the blood COD back into my feet and hands.
A moment or two pass and there, I’m set, ready.
I hope he remembers that I said I like it rough.
I give him the Full Monte, stretch real high with hands thrown above my head. I do a little spineroo so he can see the whole package. Facing him, I parse my lips.
Little
