She was smart enough from her days in the novitiate to understand it was a certain air of companionship acquired through nocturnal entanglements of a ...ort seldom viewed by the opposite sex because of the intimacy of feminine sensual sensitivities. She had almost fallen into just such an arrangement with a pretty young thing from the country but came to her senses and went for her penance and confessed her faults with a rapidly beating pulse and true contrition in her heart.The two women were. Not much partying. The ones I have gone to are fun, but I never really felt comfortable at them. I’ve never really been the partying type, Mrs. Marshall.”“Please, Will; call me Natalie. You’ve grown beyond calling me Mrs. Marshall by now” she said as she leaned back in her chair, raising her glass to her lips, taking another sip of her drink, not taking her eyes off of me.“OK, ‘Natalie’”, I said as we both chuckled slightly, breaking any tension left in the air. “So you’ve got to be quite the. " It's called cherry popping. Boys call it that. Penetrating the hymen, a whole one, it can hurt."She nodded. "That all?"I licked my lips feeling my cock swelling. Just talking about it made me horny. "Probably hurts young women, and maybe men, more than older ones. Depends on size and, well, consideration; oh, an experience. Rape's got to hurt. It's violent. Making love shouldn't hurt."She nodded and looked away.We sat there silently for a while."Why'd you ask?" Heard girls talking about doing. I'd imagined this kindof scenario many times but the reality was terrifying, especially whenone of them pulled the bag over my head and tied it tightly round myneck."Is this how it all ends?" I wondered. "Am I to star in my own snuffmovie?" The plastic crackled each time I breathed and the air soon becamehot and stale. I tried hard not to panic, but this was beyond extreme. Wehad no safe word and I had no reason to trust these guys. Fear took holdand I struggled, twisting and turning my head:.