But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. ” “We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality in his gruff voice. He had grabbed her in the stream, embracing her naked body tightly, running his hands over her breasts and clutching her buttocks. Suppose our proper place is a shrine.
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