Against her feminist instinctsHilary put on a dark blue pair of panties with black lace, together with matching nightie that barely reached down to pa...t her peachy butt."I look like a Parisian whore!" she said out loud as she examined herself in the mirror.Dressing like a whore was better than remaining stark naked in a camp of over fifty men.The only human contact Hilary had was with Sarge and Corp who took it in turns to bring her food and attend to the buckets.Sarge clearly thought himself. It was the bartender and, of all people, Alexa Bliss.“Let go of me!” Bliss cried and hit the bartender. It was a strong forearm that connected hard with his chin. He was just able to push her in the bar and close the door as he fell over. Alexa tried to get out, but she had been locked in with us. The dirty barkeeper watched from the other side of the glass door.“Let me out, you fucker!” the Goddess of the WWE stomped her feet in a tantrum.“So you’re my stalker, eh?” the topless Becky. More

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