I lunged to the toilet, spewing my guts half on the seat and half into the bowl.“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help myself,” he apologized as he wet ... washcloth and filled a glass with water. My retching continued a few minutes longer until my stomach was emptied. I lay against the porcelain panting heavily. He offered the glass which I took, only to rinse out my mouth. I swished again and spat, watching the remnants of dinner exit my mouth.“I’m sorry,” he said again. His concern was plain and. The justice system was a joke with the local qazi often bringing beautiful female convicts to confess using the services of none other than his good friend Anwar Ali and often jail them in his haveli.He would often try entire families together which was a source of much entertainment on weekends.The day began with anwar waking up in his giant bed with Krishna and Rita giving him a blow job to wake him up and Promila taking out her prized 14’’ tall riding crop to use on some hapless slave. More

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