GQS – The curse of Isthar
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
“AAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
“Take that, bitch! And you can swing your big heavy tits for me too!”
He walked backwards and watched as I swung my breasts from side to side.
It took a long time to get out of the dungeon and along a stony path that cut into my hands and knees. Every step I took made me groan.
The walk seemed endless. I was already weak from constant abuse and I was leaving my skin behind on the rough stones of the path. My only consolation was that I knew that the perverse evil Ptolemy, a man with no honor or justice in him, carried the curse of Isthar. He deserved a thousand curses.
As I crawled I thought about the curse the Roman woman had put on him. I remembered it and I kept repeating it to myself not to forget it. I wanted his penis to suffer that same curse again.
