Lex believed me to be a wild boar. He told me I sounded like a pig when I was crying. And I said: "The only one here, who is a pig, is you." His father slapped me lightly, and I thought I would never see him again, but the next day Alexander came back to the same spot."Why are you here?" I asked."I have nothing special to do... You're the only one who doesn't say your majesty all the time." There's nothing majestic about you," I answered. — I was wrong about that too."Would you like to play a game?" What game?"I planned during the march. I was eager for revenge, revenge for taking away from me my freedom.We halted at sundown. I wasn't the lone woman in the army. I guess there were a hundred other females. I think I had been sold to the so called "organised" prostitution. We set up a tent where most of the women immediately started a big fire outside and bringing big cauldrons from the wagons that had followed the marching army. They were starting to cook food for the whole. I had heard of fisting, but it had certainly never happened to me before. If I thought of it at all, I simply thought of it as something that would undoubtedly be painful beyond belief. For a few seconds I waited for the pain to shatter my vagina, but there was no pain. I moved experimentally, and Ginger began fist-fucking me, and then I really went wild! "Ginger, honey, your whole fist is inside my cunt," I moaned. "YES, YES, FUCK ME WITH IT. FIST-FUCK ME, AND LICK MY CLIT TOO!" Ginger's busy tongue was lapping my clit like crazy and I couldn't get enough. I must have come a dozen times while her little fist worked in and out of my pussy. It went on so long that I barely had time to get my bikini bottoms back on and catch my breath before Donnie came home. Donnie was wondering that night why I wasn't particularly interested in sex. For a moment I thought about telling him that it was because I had spent the whole afternoon being fist-fucked by Ginger, but somehow I had the feeling.
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