I feel their hands rubbing over my clothing and some have already started to open my blouse and trousers. I realize I'm being raped but I can't do any...hing else then look at the pictures of me on the screen. I feel hands sliding over my ass, my thighs, my stomach, my breasts. But it seems like I'm paralyzed by the images of me before my eyes. Someone has unbuttoned my jeans and I feel it slide down my legs. My blouse is also pulled down and I feel loads of hands exploring my body. I feel how my. It wasn't really anticipated at all. Like most people's first time, it was an alcohol-fuelled, spur of the moment decision taken by two people who had suddenly found themselves attracted to each other. It happened towards the end of my first year of university. I was nineteen and, although I wasn't altogether happy about still being a virgin, I wasn't overly concerned about it since a lot of my friends of the same age were in the same situation. I certainly wasn't actively seeking a sexual. “Good enough,” I told her as I watched her walk to the table. She set the package on the table and sat down in a chair. “Open it.”She carefully opened the package, gasping lightly as the thin chain necklace was revealed. Her fingers drifted towards it, then pulled back in hesitation.“You can touch it. Take it out,” I encouraged and she complied. “Look it over. At first glance, you will see what appears to be a normal looking clasp. Look closer. It actually locks with a special key. It is a. On the command of 'zombie' she'd go into a trance and obey instructionswithout hesitation. She followed him into his father's clinic room andstripped on his instruction. Her little boobs were coming on well, butthey were going to get better. Sending her into a very deep sleep, heplaced two oestrogen depot implants in the boy girl's body and glued thesmall wound closed. Then he drew up two syringes of collagen and injectedhis victim's lips with a very fine needle. For a first attempt it wasquite.