The reality that she had enjoyed any part of it was tearing her apart. On the final night of her captivity I had seen a hint of it and never even real...zed it. Bound to a bench by a leather and steel collar, cut and bleeding from struggling against the handcuffs, her captor had forced her to orgasm using a vibrator to stimulate her. When it was over she collapsed against the bench, cried and finally, after almost a month of struggling, gave up. I assumed that it was the shame of being forced to. On the returning train the younger man sitting next to her spoke through her reverie, “Miss, you seem to have a lot on your mind. Are you alright?”She turned and smiled at him, thrilled by the expression of concern, “Oh, thank you. It will be fine.”They both exited at the same station so the young man piped up, “I’ll buy you lunch if you’ll sit with me.” Flattered, she agreed.Thomas would have charmed the pants off her if she had been wearing any. Instead, the dress came off at his home near. More

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