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My smile at his touch quickly turns to confusion, however, as hishand slips down to my buttocks. I let out a small yelp as he pushes downon the flared end of the plug currently nestled in my backside."Thought so," Paul says cheekily, flashing me a quick wink. "Our secret,huh?" Yes," I say indignantly, "and it stays that way!"Needless to say, I'm stuck in the party for the rest of the night,unable to get away even for a second. Fortunately I have Paul's handcovering my backside for the duration so there's not even a hint of theplug showing through my leotard- and whenever Paul excuses himself Iimmediately park myself on the nearest chair- but by the time thepartygoers leave just after 1am I'm in near-agony from having the pluginserted for so long. When Charlotte and Keith decide to put off thetidying up to the following morning, it's all I can do not to hug theboth of them. I make my excuses and immediately retreat to my bedroomwhere I almost cry with relief as I strip off my now. Her luck had run out. The Buffalo Pox that had spread across England as it had the rest of Europe, Africa and Asia had finally chased her down. The horrible boils of pus on her face and chest could never be symptoms of anything else. And here she was, still living in the same Redhill squat which had been her home for almost a year with only hard floorboards on which to sleep.As a result of the fever and pain from which she suffered, all Lindiwe could do was shiver and sweat in the corner of the room swaddled in a blanket with her consciousness lapsing periodically into blessed oblivion. She needed food and drink, but didn't have the energy to leave the small spot in the room that she'd claimed as her own and venture out to beg on the mean streets of North Surrey. In any case, she wasn't sure she even had the ability to hold anything in her stomach once she'd let it slip down her throat.It was obvious that Lindiwe was sick. She sat huddled against the mildewed wall displaying the.
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