She turned her head around fearfully and saw him holding a small plastic bag with white powder in it. He opened it and put his finger inside.

"Looks like cocaine," he said.

"Wha… what!" she stared.

"Yep, got me a cocaine smuggler."

"What… what are you talking about!" she exclaimed.

"I say you could talk druggie!"

He shoved down hard on her back again, crushing her breasts into the scarred wooden table Meghan twisted aside, straightening up again. "You can't…"

His fist slammed into her right side just below her ribs and she collapsed, thrown against the table and then tumbling to the floor in a heap. She cried out in pain as she clutched her aching side, curling up into a ball on the floor.

She sobbed in shock, fear and misery, then screamed as he reached down and gripped a thick hunk of her hair, dragging her to her feet again. He shoved her against the table again, folding her over it and kicking her legs apart once more.

"You ba… aaa… aaasstarddddd," she sobbed.

"Better learn some obedience, slut," he said. "You ain't gonna be treated like no princess around here."

He drew his gleaming black nightstick, his eyes glittering in sadistic excitement as he gazed on her round, white ass cheeks. He ran the blunt tip of the two foot long stick over her ass, then prodded at her pussy.

Meghan's sobbing turned into a wail of misery as he jammed the thing against her slit, forcing it through the tight pussy lips and deep into her cunt channel. Instinctively she tried to rise, to twist away, to reach back and grab at the stick.

He gripped her hair again, producing another cry of pain as he bent her head painfully up and back, and jammed the thick stick even deeper into her pussy. He forced it high into her guts, then ground the tip against her cervix as she sobbed and choked and cried out in pain.

"Stinkin' whore," he sneered. "This's what you wants ain't it! Somethin' long and thick up your twat!"