My legs are spread, and my ankles shackled to the frame. I'm wearing just a plain white bra and panties.I'm not sure how long I've been here. Two, may...e three hours. Plenty of time to think about what might happen, who might use me. A man or a woman, men or women. Would they use me gently or cruelly? Caress me or whip me? Call me 'sweet thing' or curse me as a filthy whore? And when?I've run though numerous fantasies in my head, sometimes thrilling, sometimes frightening, but always ending in. It hung in the air lick a thick brown fog. It collected on cars, sidewalks and benches. In this dried up little town nobody bothered to sweep up the filth. Near the center of this backwater village a beat up hover car lay parked out front of a dingy bar, its green metallic paint chipped and faded. Inside this bar a slightly rugged individual sat in a booth seat near a window, eyeing the bank across the street. Shouting and wild laughter from a corner of the dimly lit bar drew the man’s. An elegant silhouette appeared in his doorway and slip onto the bed. Turning to his side, two small perky firm breasts pressed into his chest, followed by a loving warm kiss. Her arm pulled his leg up over her hip allowing her damp cunt to rest against his manhood. Reaching over his hip her hand slowly stroked his balls, and her fingers teasingly ran over his perineum, back to his balls. Back and forth, each time a finger now danced across his ass. David thrust his hips forward, his now. . At least it seemed dark. Actually I couldn't see a thing. I couldn't hear or feel anything either. I tested all of my senses and they were all blank. Now what?Marjorie had said I should try hearing first. She said I'd understand why. So I tried to concentrate on my hearing. After a while, maybe a long while, I could definitely start (hearing?) something. It wasn't a sound, it was more or less an interrogatory. Something was wondering why I was here.I wondered how I even knew what it wanted..
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