Gretel hadn’t forgotten Albert. Perhaps he was waiting downstairs at this very moment, hopeful that Gretel would again resist a customer and he would have reason to thrash her again. Tentatively she reached inside the man’s breeches. It took her a while to find what she was looking for. When she took it out it was a poor, shrivelled thing, limp in her hand.
“Get to it,” the man snapped.
Gretel knelt between his legs and forced herself to take the thing in her mouth. She sucked energetically, if without enthusiasm, but after ten minutes there was little to show for her efforts. The man’s c**k was scarcely bigger than when she had begun. She took her mouth away.
“Sir,” she said, “perhaps you are not in the mood.”
The man snarled and slapped her face. “It’s you,” he said. “You aren’t doi
