The room wasutterly dark, utterly silent, and I leaned my forehead against the cool stone. His kiss still burned on my lips, the scent of him stil...thick enough to taste. His breath tickling my earlobe. His hands on my body.That lovely, lovely face. I had displeased him. And I was sorry for it. "I'm sorry," I whispered, and things low inmy body tightened. The feel of his back beneath my hands, the ripple of muscleas he pressed inward. "I'm sorry." Who knows how long I stood. “Come on whore, let’s see you wallowing about in the piss trough,” one of the men said.Colette needed no prompting, unlike the previous time when she had been forced into the vile pool of filth, she daintily stepped into the trough of putrid, yellow, urine. The men marvelled at such degraded sluttishness as Colette sank to her knees, then leaned forward and slowly lay face down in the abhorrent pool of corrupt feculence.The men all groaned in disgust at the wanton filthiness. More

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