He ruffled a dirty hand through it as he cast about the room. He took up an old headscarf, one that had once belonged to my mother, and knelt before m.... He dabbed and wiped at the carnal residue high up on my thighs. I turned my head away. I sensed the delicate touch of the cloth briefly against the ruined place between my legs. He then pulled the tattered remnants of my skirt over my nakedness. But there was no need. Modesty and shame had become only words to me. Achingly small, and weak, and. ©2013 by Senorlongo CHAPTER 1 Damn! Damn! Damn! I hit the damned GPS with the heel of my hand, but it still wouldn’t work. I had tried repeatedly to tell the suits at the main office that we needed better equipment, but those cheap bastards were always looking out for the bottom line—their bottom line, anything to look good to the higher-ups. The fact that our lives were at stake was inconsequential. My requests were always turned down. Now we were stuck in the bloody jungle of Brazil with no. More

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