It was completely bizarre. Like my breast had turned into a purple cantaloupe. I hardly even noticed the same thing being done to the other one. Hands...appeared and disappeared. Some caressed my swollen breasts and some tested the clamps. Another pair attached wires to them.Wires? Oh, no!There were at least three or four of them. I shuddered on the cool metal. The table felt like one from a gynecologist's office, or maybe in a hospital. Were these people doctors? What is happening to me? What. He would often compliment her on how beautiful she was, then remind her that she was a whore and that, after all, whores were supposed to be beautiful. He had kept her exclusively to himself for the first few nights, then began farming her out to friends and clients. She still was required to service him whenever he wanted, but two to three nights a week she would wind up in the back seats of cars or in dingy motel rooms, mostly with students but also, from time to time, with some "townies".. More

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