“I think you will agree I bought a fine specimen. Pleasant rump, pretty to look at and those teats are to die for. Feel for yourself.” Kim uncerta...nly pushed out her chest. Mr Hughes looked at his wife, whose face was as grim as slate, and hesitantly put out his hand to touch where her breast met her body. Mistress Miller grabbed his hand and pressed it firmly over the nipple, then did the same to Mrs Hughes. The four of them were frozen. Mr and Mrs Hughes, a hand each on Kim’s breasts; Kim. That can only mean one thing. A burning sensation on your shoulder finally filters through the pain in your head. You know what you're going to see there, but you look anyway. Sure enough, there is the bar code, freshly inked into your skin. The symbol beneath it dictates the purpose for which you will be sold. It is two overlapping circles, not the hammer that designates worker slaves. You've been marked as a sex slave. Several hours pass uneventfully. No one speaks, each captive dreading. More

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