Fireplace Memories

.pleaseeee...master...forgive me....oh God,it burns, pleaseeee...but Ahmed and Samir left the chamber. 3. The hours passed withan agonizing slowlyness. I couldn?t stand on my feet so I was hanging from thechains. When wrists hurt too much I stood up a bit but I collapsed again. Thepain in my ass did not ease a bit. I felt that the salt eat itself into myskin. It was constantly burning feeling. There was no escape from it. Iwimpled, squirmed, shook my body to get rid of the pain but it was useless. When three hourspassed Ahmed came back. He opened the manacles at my ankles first, then at mywrists. I fell to the floor. I sobbed and whimpered. I did not notice thatSamir entered. He turned off the cameras. ?Now I will cure yourass. I will hurt a bit.? he said and crouched next to me. Then he greasedsomething onto my ass. It was hot and tingling. ?Be still for a couple ofminutes. It will cure your skin rapidly.? The ointment was amysterious mixture from the ancient world. When I first. Four hours later Carlotta screamed. I rushed in. Carlotta was disheveled and bruised. “This is all I can take.” She said. “Not one of them came anywhere close to my spark plug.” She heaved a despondent sigh. “Shall we try again tomorrow?” I said. Carlotta gave a forlorn nod. I picked up my megaphone, walked down the stairs, and stood in the dusty street. The crowd was even bigger than before. “Come back tomorrow morning,” I yelled. The men grumbled and shuffled away. 4 And so began a tedious routine. Carlotta would hop up on the desk, her bottom covered with bandages, and I would check to make sure her clitoris was still there. It took me a week to get past her throat. The next week, for some reason, I though her right nipple was her pleasurenut. The week after that I was sure it was her left nipple. The following week I focused on her belly button. “At least you’re getting closer,” Carlotta said. And then, like she had day after day, she pointed to the exact spot. The succeeding.
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