A middle-aged woman was standing next to the bar with a shotgun in one hand and a small ax in the other. She was ranting about "demon rum" and the sin...of drinking alcohol. All of the patrons were cowering behind upset tables, not daring to poke much more than their eyes past that dubious protection. The mirror behind the bar was shattered and the bartender was hunkered down behind the bar. A man was lying on the floor near the woman with blood flowing from a gash on the top of his head.While I. In fact,most would say that a whore was really just living up to his potentialinstead of taking money for sex. Of course, he would never see a single pennyfor his services. All the money would go to her to fund her brothel, but thatdidn't matter to him really.Sissies had no time for things like money and how to count it."I am here now to buy you, yes," Lauren began as she walked over to the tablein the corner. She sat the silver briefcase down before turning back to lookat the boi. She smiled. More

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