For a couple of minutes, Melissa wandered aimlessly around the room, not sure what to do. Even though the room was beautiful and soothing, her nerves ...ere jangling. She sat in one of the chairs and hunched over, cradling her head in her hands, “I have no fucking idea what I’m doing here.”After a moment, she whispered back to herself, “Oh that’s right, I’m a sex slave. Better get to it. ‘Yes, Master. No, Master. Whatever the fuck you say, Master.’”She took a last look around, deciding that her. Occasionally, when necessary to emphasize a particular point, she slid her chair back, and assumed the posture of a prim and proper young teacher. With back arched, legs crossed and skirt riding up her thigh she would school her young companion on the subtleties of sales. In mock deference to her teaching, his eyes dropped, but they did not close. Instead they traversed her legs from hem to toe until, transfixed by her brightly painted nails, he simply stared, head bowed, struggling to breathe. More

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