My teeth stab my lower lip as I try to fight the effects of the pentathol. I focus on the metallic taste of blood as it trickles over my tongue. My heart is slowing, despite the terror I felt. Swimming in a sense of dissociation, I watch myself answer him.
"I make love to my husband every night. Sometimes it is satisfying, sometimes it is not. I find the most pleasure when he eats my pussy and plays roughly after he fucks my face."
Normally, I would have blushed at the mention of sex. But I was speaking so freely about it that I wanted to punch myself in the jaw to get me to close my flapper.
"If you're going to kill me, will you please just get to that part so I don't have to talk about sex anymore?" I asked desperately.
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Oh, I will be alright, just use me...The future's bright without me...
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