I wrapped my arms around her. ‘Let’s get you home, Sugar-Plum. Where is home?’ ‘I can’t go home.’ She started sobbing again. ‘Why not? H...me would be best for you.’ ‘I told my parents that I’d be out all night with Brian and that he’d bring me back just before lunch.’ ‘Dressed like this? On a Sunday morning? Where are your other clothes?’ ‘In his car. Outside his flat. I’ve still got his car keys because he said he was too drunk to drive.’ ‘Where’s his flat? Could we get your clothes from his. After I was locked in the room again, where for the next few days I was used and tortured over and over. Everything from just waking up being dragged by my hair or getting belted in the mouth, even being pulled right off the toilet and raped. Even if I didn’t try to fight, even I just tried to go willingly. But there I was locked in a room and every hour or so, guy after guy, or sometimes in groups of two, three or four came in. Almost every time they were intent in raping me. Some. You feel comfortable, don't you?" Yeah," Elaine replied, twisting and showing her ass. "These are getting a bit tight." Leave those. God," said Kendra."Are you trying to be helpful?" Chelsea asked Kendra."Oh, come on. You'd think she was going on a date with the Pope. Why isn't she showing some skin?" Because it's not a date," said Chelsea. "It's a pre-date meeting, and since she's meeting someone from online, I think it's a fucking good idea not to act too sexy."Kendra thought for a moment and. I knew a bustier revealed my attributes to good advantage, but having developed something of a bondage fetish, the thought of a strong, binding corset constraining me, as it exhibited my assets, was quite arousing. Acquiring one was on my to-do list. I just had never found the exact one that suited me perfectly. One day... For now, the bustier would have to suffice. Arriving at the club, my focus shifted from my appearance to hopefully meeting mister right-for-the-night. The friendly doorman.