But it did not work. She could not force a single tear.While her face reformed and the bruises on her body shrank, she remained silent and buried her ...ose in books. She avoided Tazula as best she could. She wrote her mother short lines about longing for the city and her old friends. She hungered for her mother’s hand upon her fine hair, gently stroking it free of all the wasted time and uneasiness of being in a place where the walls stank of hate and injustice. It was all around her: in the. For those moments, he owned me, he could do anything to me he wished and I was powerless to resist. I have since wondered if I, if any woman, could be trained to accept and love the role of sexual slave." Why don't we find out." I didn't mean..." she started, but the look in his eye told her he was already envisioning erotic possibilities."Let me make a phone call or two."She knew better than to object.Three days later they were in Paris. After a wonderful day of sightseeing, they had returned. More

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