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the improvised gibbet
didn't satisfy her too much " death must come wisely" her good friend had whispered to her she had stolen the thick belt from her mother's overcoat and now it was hanging in a strange way in the middle of the orchard among the appletrees "I will not struggle, I will not put out my tongue I will not have an orgasm" she was swinging gently at the end of the belt, she strained her neck for two or three seconds and remained in a bizarre position with her long printed dress rustling among the appletrees.
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