This is part 11 of an ongoing series. Please start reading from part One for context. Thank you. 

We’ve had sex five times already. God. Such a nymphomaniac. There’s a lot of cigarettes and wine here. That’s kind of nice. My mind wanders. I wonder where those talking dogs are right now. I wish I could say sorry to them for being an asshole. But I guess that’s okay. 

And why isn’t this chick talking to me? She’s just fucking me and feeding me. I feel weirdly unsatisfied. It’s quite frustrating to be honest. But I don’t want to piss this woman off. She’s controlling the car with her mind and everything. She seems a bit coo-coo. I shouldn’t throw her over the edge. But I have to say something. 

“So I must be pretty good, right? At sex. That’s why you wanna do it seven times?” Yeah, that should be a nice conversation starter. She looks arrogant so she would love to disagree with me. A nice Cocky statement should set her off. “You are A.M.Azing! Are you rejuvenated for the sixth time?” “No, I’ll need a little more time.” Damn, that did not work. Who the fuck says ‘A.M.Azing’?! Somehow, despite her kidnapping me and kind of raping me, that word pisses me off more than the rest. 

What if she’s into human trafficking?! What if she’s testing me for sex and then plans to sell me to a Brothel for Men. I mean Brothel’s where Men are selling sex. Not regular brothels where Men visit, that’s just a regular Brothel. AAH, fuck it. Is should start to accept my fate and just comply. Alright. Just shut your eyes and let this beautiful woman violate you again.