.. me?” she repeated, shocked. “But I’m ... I’m your sister?”“I say it again, just as drunk: that sometimes, I think of you. I’m speakin... in a loud whisper, and it’s obvious that I think I’m being quieter than I am.”The more details I give, the more believable the hypothetical is. The fact that my sister hadn’t woken up was a good sign, but as she sat there processing, that familiar fear came back.Sure, the only implanted memory would be “one time you and your brother got drunk.” But maybe. I would smoke some pot here and there or do a line of cocaine at a party on occasion, but the sex I was having was fun and with men who were professionals, actors, athletes and in general, much more sophisticated than the d**g addicts that Shawn sold me to for years, when I worked the street as his d**g addled, low priced hooker. I needed the d**gs to do the things I did then, when I was sucking cock for $5 or letting men fuck me for $10 or $20. Now, my libido was being satiated and I enjoyed. More

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