” He lets off his weight. She slips to the floor and pulls her top off in a flourish. She throws it into the corner. He can only stare. Slack jawed...at her nubile teen form. Her Chuck Taylor low tops fly one by one. A sock hitting him in the face. “towels” is all she says. Her skirt follows the polo top and she grabs the purple hard case. Entering the bathroom. She marvels at the wooden slat floors warmth under her bare feet. He finally breaks his trance. Tearing his eyes away from the not. He was around 30 in age, 5feet 8inch tall i think, wheattish with very very skinny body. His face was of just another guy whom you cannot relate to. We decided that we would join the lower berth and spread our legs and sleep in semi sleeping position but it was off position and i could not fall asleep and also jai's feets were stinking. so i sat up instead of sleeping. Even jai was hard of sleep,jai-what happen? you ain't asleep? Even i am not feeling like sleeping, why not we talk for some. I couldn’t believe they were going to leave me like this, but why not after all that they had done already. So here I sat in this chair after being whipped and fucked for who knows how many hours. Then rings clamped to my tits and tied. And my pussy being clamped, stretched, and now fucked by a machine until someone decided to stop it. I still couldn’t see anything, and had no concept of time. I only knew I was in more agony than I had even known or imagined. But I also knew that my pussy. The Sharon she was used to being had had no interest in acquiring a new lover; quite aside from the embarrassing explanations (not to mention possible dangers) revealing her relationship with Armand would entail, she hadn't any memories of the whole thing being worth it. The past couple of days, however, had been a series of revelations; not only COULD she enjoy sex, she was staring the unpalatable fact that she DID enjoy sex -- rough, nasty, humiliating, painful sex -- dead in it's unwinking.