This seemed to be some sort of postal depot. The conveyor belt ran along a row of chairs, most likely occupied during normal operations to sort whatev...r was coming down the slide and along the conveyor belt. The stairs converting to a ramp was not a real trap but a slide for mail or packages and had some industrial or ware housing purpose.Four pill shaped dark red man high capsules in the middle of the room looked out of place, did not fit with the rest of the equipment. A little square box was. My short skirt was riding mid-thigh and the back of Mr Nilsson hand was resting on my soft inner thigh, 'I need to go check on some other patients', mother said, her eyes fixed on his hand, which I had let go and he turned it onto my leg, his fingers sending little shocks into my crotch.'We'll be OK', I replied looking at her then Mr Nilsson, smiling openly at him, feeling his thumb snuck under my hemline. Mother nodded and disappeared, leaving us alone.'You still a Virgin', he asked me. More

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