Curse of the gypsy woman Part four
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Asmedogh napped for most of the rest of the day, still recovering his strength from what had to have been pretty major surgery. His kind seemed to recuperate a bit faster than we, but his body still wasn't functioning at par. And it was clear, especially from the shared impressions my mind had gleaned from him, that our talk had taken a lot out of him.
For my part I had a lot to think about. Part of me was already questioning the wisdom of what I'd suggested to him, and was clamoring for me to break my just-given vow and turn him in. But I shoved that part quickly under the rug, and mentally stomped on it a couple of times for good measure. In the first place I'd given him my word; in the second I kind of shared his species' view of the "warlike" nature of ours, and couldn't imagine anything even approximating a reasonable reception that he'd receive if I did report him.
I had Scarpia's example before me if I was in any doubt. He questions Cavaradossi, the tenor, briefly about information that he, Scarpia, wants, and when Cavaradossi won't answer immediately puts him to horrific torture. Sure, that was just grand opera, but it was verismo opera—meant to parallel the truth—and the scenario was pretty readily accepted as realistic. And with about half the country already supporting torture as an acceptable means of extracting information from suspected—only suspected!—terrorists, I wouldn't submit a goldfish to that type of "interrogation."
Come to think of it, that wasn't about to change—either my own views or the serious possibility of that kind of response if Asmedogh clammed up, and why wouldn't he? Which left me with an even greater dilemma than I'd first realized.
I was also beginning to think of the many questions I hadn't asked Asmedogh, and whose answers might be very important to how I resolved that dilemma. I knew I'd think of more as soon as I had the answers to my first set. But Asmedogh, I recognized, was done for the day.
Well, put it on the back burner for now. I did what I usually did in such cases, turned my mind off to whatever was troubling me at the time and on to music.
To Tosca.
I had, as I'd told Camilla, the notes; they were clear in my mind. But now I needed to assemble them into the music the composer had written, and that was another matter. I shifted my focus from rote memorization to an effort to dissect the character of the role.
Opera isn't, or at least isn't supposed to be, simply vocalizing the notes in the score. The whole idea is that there's at least some rudimentary acting that goes along with the music, so the thing comes together as a fully realized stage presentation.
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Hi doston mera name san hai mujhe aap log bhul to nahi gaye? Akhir baat hi kuch aisi hai ki main bahot dino ta ISS pe nahi aa paya aap logon ko to mera pichle wali ghatna yaad hi hoga ki kyse maine train ki chorni ko apna rakhail banaya us rakhail ko main abhi bahot miss karta hoon kyun ki mera boss mere us rakhail par latto ho gaya tha to mujhe us rakhail ko boss ko dena padha warna mera naukri chala jata. To ab wo rakhail mere boss ki rakhail hai. Mera boss use khub chodta hai mera boss mere...
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Hi. I’m a regular reader on the site but this is my first time posting here. My wifi was down for the day and I was at home and didn’t have anything else to do so I decided to pen down some of my past sexcapades. Now this is going to be a long read because ive tried to include most of the events leading up to the actual sex so read on. Feedback welcome.So this incident happened about 3 months back. I like going on long runs and gymming and you know, generally keeping myself fit. I’m not into...
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Claire Black is trying to study, but she cannot seem to shake her desire to get on the piano and try to remember how to play. All those years she spent taking lessons while growing up had to be worth something, right? She hops over to the keyboard, but as she fumbles with the music, her boyfriend starts to get some crazy ideas. He comes up behind this extra small sweetie and plops his cock down on the piano keys! Claire looks over and is shocked at the size of his wood. He picks her up, flips...
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Title: Julia, tourist to slave whore, her descent Introduction: Julia gets mugged and loses everything Genre: Fiction Themes: BDSM, Bondage and restriction, Domination/submission, Humiliation, Male/Teen Female, Males / Female, Prostitution, Rape, Reluctance, Young, Your story: On the coast in Italy July 2013 Julia was bored, a typical American tourist wearing a floral print skirt and a tight red blouse which emphasised her ample D cup breasts she strolled along in the sunshine. One of the...
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