"Ummm Alice." the tears slightly subsiding. "That's a very pretty name Alice, and don't worry I'm not going to hurt you, or rob your house." "Your not...?" she said in a very small and light voice. The telltale sign of hope welling up. "No, but I am going to rape you." I said with the slightest hint of menace. The emerging smile quickly faded as she looked pleadingly into my eyes and begged once more. "Please sir, don't rape me I'm only ten! I promise, if you leave now I won't tell anyone what you. Some of them walk out with the intention of never returning, but most of them don't, and the ones that do - always reappear eventually. I suppose they are intrigued by the prospect of beating me before furiously stabbing their manhood inside my body and it brings them crawling back with acceptence of what I want to be done. Even if it sickens them to do some of the acts that I wish.Sometimes I get curious to know what makes them so enticed by wrapping their hands around my throat as they. She also received the PDF for her attire and a sample video for the dance. She asked me to get the dress stitched from the local tailor.Then in the evening, we saw the news that from Wednesday, we had a lockdown. She hurriedly asked me to get the raw materials for the dress, at least as she could sew pretty well.Now, this is where it all started, guys. When I checked the dress dimensions from the PDF, I was shocked to see that only one white color sports bra-like garment and blue color short. On the drive down my thoughts slid towards Shameera, as they often did when I had nothing better to think of. She was in bad shape when we handed her off to the Brits running the C. S. H. (Combat Support Hospital) unit nearest us and what she went through was pretty harsh for anyone to deal with. If it were me, I would probably try to throw myself into work, which meant planning better ways to kill the very people who took me. But she was a war correspondent. At least I hoped she was because if.