Me Pakistani Dost Ki Housewife

Although technically with his only daughter's impending roast he was no longer a father.Deciding for himself to enjoy this day he would not go easy on the meat just because it use to be his daughter, reaching out for her he grabbed her by her hair picked her up and threw her out the meat-girl locker door into the kitchen where she hit the floor hard tear's filling her eye's, "Your day has only began sweetie, or should I say sweet meat, yes that’s a better name for you now, by the time im done with your tenderizing torture's you will be begging me to spit you" he said as she lay there on the floor quietly crying with some blood dripping from the open cut she now had on her face from hitting the floor.He walked over and grabbed her hair again pulling her to her feet, with her hands still bound tight behind her back she could do nothing to resist him and that was the way she was meant to be she was the meat and he sure was going to enjoy tenderizing her, "First you see we need to make. The porcelain handles have tiny little flowers painted on them. Whatever they used to coat the porcelain is some pretty good shit. Both handles shine like they are wet. The white is clear and clean looking. The blue flowers look like the kind you see on those old Chinese tea sets. I always handle it carefully. It’ll cut the shit out of you in a heartbeat. I’ve seen her walking by with the boyfriend a few times. I don’t think either one of them has a car. Every time I see her I try to distract myself somehow. Today she walked by and I suddenly decided I needed to watch tv. I like this tv. Not so much because it’s big and fancy, but because it’s big and fancy and it’s mine. I went to the mall after work one day looking for a new tv. I was standing in front of this tv looking it over. A smarmy looking sales guy walked up and gave me the routine. He took one look at my dirty work clothes and told me I was welcome to apply for store credit. I pulled a knot of hundreds out of my pocket and.
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