In one hand, he held a tiny knife, its blade wet with Kig-yar blood. In the other, he held the Elite’s plasma rifle, the red glow of its ammo counte... indicating that the charge was almost depleted.He had torn through her squad like a Zealot, and how many more before it? Where else could he have obtained the rifle and the plasma grenade? He was injured and alone, he should be hiding in some dark corner somewhere, waiting out the invasion. Yet he kept coming, never faltering. This was the. I tucked myself back into my panties. Then I stood up andminced back to where the black man stood. I waited with my eyesdowncast."Get on your knees bitch," he said, almost gently.I sank down to the ground, kneeling in the cold wet grass. I brought myhands up to the front of his pants. My fingers looked so sexy?long andwhite and delicate?with their red-painted nails. I could feel my heartpounding. I was this black man's bitch, his whore, his slave. I'd neverfelt more at home in the world than I. More

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