Etta Panella was sitting at a very large workstation with at least six holograms of extravagant proportions in a wide arc in front of her. She looked harassed and tired. She had startling faded and blotchy canary yellow skin that reminded Jason of one of his colleagues in the jungle who had contracted hepatitis from an esoteric virus and had died in hepatic failure. The hue of her skin looked decidedly unhealthy. She pushed herself up from her old lumpy stool with a cracked covering using the. It just about covered 2/3 of my thighs & put the remaining 1/3 on display. I was wearing a matching pair of 3 heels. On the upper half, I was clad in a body-hugging sleeveless tank-top which accentuated my bust. All-in-all, I was clad in just three articles of clothing – a mini-skirt, a tank-top & a lacy bra under my tank-top. I was also carrying my handbag with some cash, credit-cards, & my mobile phone in it. After deliberating on the safety concerns, we decided to limit our experiment. " pleeded the Guru"Shut the fuck up you snivaling piece of shit I aughta have you beaten to death or shot for what you did ..." said the big Hawian as he stood over him"Yeah the Big Kawhoona don't like what you did." said the man stepping down the stairs to the large open room where we all stood as the Guru sat on his knees"Mr. Carman what should I do with this piece of shit who brainwashed my only offspring then defiled her in a manner that no man or b**st would want her?" he asked"Well you. She hadn’t been in Block 4 before, but she was certain that the boys here would be just as disrespectful as the girls in Block 1. She grabbed a big bag from the cleaners’ cupboard and got to work on the ground floor. At the first door she knocked on, a very middle class-looking boy popped his head round the door, looked Tracy up and down, said, “Doesn’t need emptied,” and shut the door in her face. That just about summed up Tracy’s week. She went to some rooms where the occupant would sigh.
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