We strolled casually for a while. Our conversation was desultory commentating on what had been and was the fire that destroyed the house was accidenta... or arson. I had been thinking about this for some time and believed that it was arson. "From what I understand the house was closed up and nobody lived there. Being built in the early eighteen hundreds it wouldn't have gas nor, of course, electricity. I doubt that it was caused by any natural phenomenon. Perhaps a vagrant had got in and he set. He looked his sobbing victim up and down as he moved over to a chair and sat down, still recovering from his exertions, and lit a cigarette. Her pussy was still glistening, thin strands of his sperm dripping down from her entrance and onto the cold floor, angry red marks on her neck and tits where he had bitten her. She looked so pathetic hanging there, bound up and his to use whenever he wanted that he was almost ready to fuck her again right there, and soon he would. But first he had other. More

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