“Eighty-six. Eighty-seven.” Catcalls and whistles. Clapping. Laughter. She felt a hand on her bottom and realized her cunt and ass were empty - Ti...fany had taken her hands out of the slave’s holes and she’d been too far gone to even notice. She looked and saw Tiffany sitting in a chair, wiping her hands on a towel and smoking a cigarette. She was surrounded by men. Ten? Twelve? Twenty? “Ninety-two. Ninety-three.” The hands were smacking her ass now. It was almost comical. The thought that she. "One minute," she said.He took a deep breath. "You don't have to tell me who she is or where she lives," he went on. "But I am certain you know her from my description. Ask her please to be here, in this bar tonight. Let's say around eight. Tell her to look out for John. She'll know, she has seen me today."It wasn't eight o'clock yet when he walked into the crowded bar. There were a lot of tourists — some business types too. And around them were a few women whose profession he knew by their. More

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