One by one, the cars were brought around to the front, and each was piled to the limit with slaves and master, until finally, Dmitri's car was brought...around. With shaking hands, I managed to open the car door, but froze when his hand was on my shoulder."No," he said in his thick accent. "You will ride in the front with me." I nodded and he took the bag from my hand and laid it on the back seat before guiding me around and opening the passenger door for me. I was dumbfounded. Slaves were never. One night I dared to go around the block. Another time a black wagon pulled up in front of my house. Instead of running around (which was what I always did when something like this happened), I started stroking myself. I imagine that the man inside the car masturbated. But he did not do more. Until it happened. That night I got out of bed at two in the morning, loaded my backpack (previously prepared) and, with great stealth and care, I left my room and went to the abandoned house. Describing. More

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