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... Iris White, Sylvia Thompson had a bad feeling in her heart.
She stood up, left the banquet hall, and went to her room to fetch a spare dress for Iris.
Luckily Iris’s figure was similar to hers; otherwise, she would have needed to buy another dress.
In the restroom.
Iris was squatting in a cubicle, shaking all over, biting her lower lip tightly, her face filled with humiliation.
She wasn’t wearing any clothes.
Her exposed skin was covered in bruises ...
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