My fingers itched and my pussy was moist. Only from this. I closed my eyes, trying not to remember the things we'd done. Perry forcing me to have sex ...ith him. Raping me in my kitchen and in my own bed. Subduing me the one time I'd tried to fight him and then spanking me the night I'd tried to say no to his desires.I was stroking the insides of my thighs, the pale flesh above the tops of my stockings. I was tickling myself with my fingertips, dragging my nails closer to my pussy as I sat behind. Hearing about it in a Social Studies class or on TV really didn’t make it seem as horrible as the raw details we got at the museum. Instead of taking the boys all back to the hotel, they took us over to some place with lots of gardens and reflection pools. All of the guys were re-split into four groups. We ate whatever we wanted from various food carts being pushed around, but they wanted us to sit and think about what we saw at the museum. They encouraged us to write out our thoughts into our. More

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