Young Megan began to panic. She’d heard stories about girls who had horrible stuff done to them. Was something going to happen to her? She thought a...out all the terrible things she’d heard for what seemed like hours. There was no clock in the room, so she could’ve been strapped there for days for all she knew before she heard a door open and close behind her.“Is my fuckslut awake yet?” said a familiar male voice. Megan recognized it but couldn’t quite put a finger on it.“What…do you want from. Shhhh! Don't speak or they'll think you're crazy.But where are you?I'm right here, Jeremy.It's "Jenny" now.To me, you're still "Jeremy." And I never liked those two dykes, either.Where are you, Mistress Julie?Jeremy, I guess you can kill that Mistress crap now. I'm here! Inside you!Inside me? How?How the fuck do I know? I've been laying low ever since, well, that day Erica heard you talking to me.Laying low?Yeah, exploring your memories. I remember growing up as a boy in upstate New York, and. He saw his cousin sister and the handsome guy entering a room. What he didn’t see was my lover (his master plan) standing inside the room, directing those two to come his way.Me: Had enough? Or do you want to see your cousin sister getting banged like a bitch?The groom’s brother was standing stiff with a cold look on his face. His eyes had become watery, and I had pulled him to the other side of the hallway before he made a scene.Groom’s brother (almost sobbing): That fucking bitch! How could. ." No time for that." she interrupted him. The plane was now vibrating as if it was about to desintegrate. "As I said, you can still save your own life. All you need to do is sign your name in your own blood on any sufrace." You mean... It's a demonic pact? I would sell my soul?" he asked nervously."Oh, don't be so dramatic. With all your misbehavings since your last confession years ago, did you really think your soul was due to some boring place with feathered assholes in dressing gowns?" she.
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