Her ass jiggled wildly as she squirmed. She winced from the pain in her jiggling breasts, then stuttered “Address…address book!” To her shock, the shorter man held up a paper towel for her to blow her nose into, then wiped her face with a damp second towel. The lamp cord hit her inner thigh. Those watching could observe her vaginal lips contort as the stinging, improvised whip was flung across them at a shallow angle. Now she gripped a toolbox handle. Someone from the woman’s company had called in with the Rebecca’s full name and mobile number, which had last pinged the closest cell tower at 11:57 PM the night before. The visible parts of her scalp were covered by black stubble, essentially shaven, as semi-conscious Becca told them to do her whole head if they had to do half for the skull operation anyway.
