It didn’t end for Lesley, not that night nor the week that followed. VickyLong didn’t shove anything else up his ass, at least: on the second night after she hoisted him like a stick puppet and flailed his shocked and flabby body before the webcam, he heard her talking with another worker after she shelved him in the sleeping cubbies. Little light seeped above the rim of his box, and his nose was full of the stench of old banana.
“I really fucked that fucker up,” she said, laughing.
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