“YAhhhhhh…I fucking…”
She likes me, that is much.
She looks down at me, from a bed, a bed in the first stall, where all the other girls wait, in lower stalls, boxes, alid together, my battery hens with bright cockerel dresses, tail feathers winking, all in lower boxes, pick a box, the top one, the top hen, the one who picks at dirty feathers, cleans up the wings and the skin, really a fox in a box.
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