Tavis was totally adsorbed in his violent artistry, and did not notice me approach. I stood back a ways to watch, not wanting to disturb his exotic sport. He didn’t hurry, pausing between each blow to drink in the vision of Medora’s desperate but useless struggles to tear her arms and legs free of the straps binding her. Her once proud and arrogant stare down her nose at us who had to dirty our hands to earn a living had transformed into a frightened, pleading gaze at her tormentors. It would be doubly sweet f*****g her, getting our revenge for her sneering comments and brazen insults about our unworthiness to look at her girls with lust in our hearts.
Tavis had plenty of his own personal reasons for enjoying this violent revenge on a woman. Years ago, while he was at the university, a wi
