Walk-in suicide bombings weren’t uncommon. They were like interviews. Only the ladies didn’t wear short business suits and nylon stockings, but dy...amite and good hemp rope to keep it all bundled together. Cars had been used, too. Buses, trucks, ships. Even planes. But whichever unhappy nation decided to throw in their cards and finally call it quits against the World Bank didn’t do it in anyway complex, they simply fired a spray of Titan II-Pu missiles at the World Bank Headquarters. Pu means. SMACK! A sharp noise as rubber meets flesh, and the girl utters a choking sob as a swathe of tender skin on the under curve of her unprotected buttocks rapidly turns red. ‘I didn’t hear you count. You can count, can’t you?’ the woman remarks icily. The young buttocks squirm, and then settle. ‘Y-yes, Miss Hancock. S-sorry. One, Miss.’ ‘Too late, we’ll have to start again,’ the woman’s voice snaps with irritation, ‘Up on your toes – push it out.’ CRACK! ‘Ooouf! One, oooh, ooh!’ SMACK! ‘Aaah,. More

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