Only What they Want

Alana stood in the middle of the hut with her eyes glued to the gun that was pointed at her; the muzzle gaped with an eager menace, ready to release what was held in it. She could feel the cold sweat that poured out from the pores of her forehead. She reeled from the tension that made her stomach tighten and it took all she had in her to hold her sphincter from releasing the warm liquid that sat in her bowel.

A few weeks ago, she had no idea she would ever find herself in such a position and now it came to her, trickling into her consciousness like tap water from a broken faucet.

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