Hername was Layonda. I had to lay face first on the floor, my headjutting through a narrow opening in the bars, at foot-level (Those whosaw the movie,...Papillon, need no further description). My hands werecuffed behind me and my prostrate naked body was chained to the floorof the holding chamber. This was secure lock down, the only way I wasallowed to receive an audience with anyone from the outside. Layondalet me know who she was and what she expected of me. I was to become awarm mouth for her. " "Did them or thought about them." "Neither," I was sweating for some reason. "Now let's talk about something else." "Poor little Peggy," she put the spoon in her mouth in an overtly sensual act. "Always so repressed, always so proper.Haven't you ever just wanted to let your hair down and let go?" "No!" my hands were shaking and I caught myself staring at her lips, her full lips."I have some errands to run, so maybe you should just go." "Hey, I'm sorry if I upset you," but she didn't look. More

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