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Who’s that? Anal porn “Sniff me, whore.”
Vanessa imagines that smell. Soft, white, delicate, hand-tailored silk. You’re my slave.”
Vanessa loves hearing Zynab say that. A lot more than you. Soft, white, delicate, hand-tailored silk. How they demonstrate their humility and devotion. Better than being raped, wasn’t it? No, Vanessa doesn’t treat her girls like that. And Zynab. Kiss. Vanessa had been there when the dressing-maids had measured her up. They’ll look after her and help her pay her debts, won’t they? “Sorry mistress”. They’ll look after her and help her pay her debts, won’t they? Fuck yourself on my foot.”
Francesca wriggles. Are they all raped by their traffickers? Heaven. Go ahead.”
Zynab sidles up to Francesca and for a moment they return each other’s gaze. Perhaps it’s the way she wears her hair: Tied back as it is in that immaculate, high-knot pony-tail. Sexy floral-print blouse. She understands. This is how slaves worship their owners. She has seen girls beaten to within inches of their lives. She needs to hear it. Not going to require much training. How fortunate for Vanessa, because that’s what gets her off, too.