Wash Me

By Slave Kala

One drunken night leaves this young woman with an undeniable need to do her laundry forevermore.
To the bemused but unabashed delight of her mother.
Come with her on a wild journey of inner exploration as this almost adult, cusp-of-twenty-something girl enters a world of self-discovery possessed of nightmare proportions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Slave Kala
• Release date: Mar 31, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458008831

Slave Kala

Kala is a stunningly beautiful sensual highly intelligent fun-loving and mischievous individual. She is also a 247 TPE slave girl.

Book preview

WASH ME

Slave Kala

(No, that is the title of the work and my byline; it doesn’t mean I need to be washed- Author's note *giggle*)

Smashwords edition copyright 2011

The right of Slave Kala to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved.

Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

Forward:

After one alcohol induced night of frenzy, Sarah learned the value of taking care of herself.

A low growl filled the heavens around her sleepy head.

Sarah lay buried under an immensity of swaddling cloth, the air around her incredibly sultry; rich, and dark, and closely warm. She rolled over, finding herself constrained and unable to move, her attempt to shift her body into a more comfortable position blocked by the soft weight surrounding her on all six sides. Her mouth felt fuzzy and tasted of pennies, old pennies which had been allowed to ferment awhile in pomegranate juice that had gone bad.

She opened her bleary eyes and realized it wasn't actually as dark as all that. High, high above her she could see a faint light, just a glimmering where her constraints were less severe, a place where she might break free. But oh, the pounding in her head, the pain, an unremittent bludgeoning in the back of her scull as if she was being repetitively kicked by an angry midget goblin with a case of the trots and a belief that she hogged the only bathroom for miles around.