It had been a toss-upwhich of them had their breasts tortured.Greta Stern wasplaying one of her little theme games. She was the cruel Nazi fiend, type...asting for sure, and the two terrified girls had been brought in to thetorture chamber to play the other supporting roles. One had to be a HitlerYouth, learning how to hurt the enemies of the Fatherland, the other would bethe one to be hurt.It was adreadful game for Priscilla. The rules were brutally simple.?You are myassistant, do you. As Leslie took a sip of her water and an excited look started to growon her face. "Susan! I just remembered. There is a new art exhibit thatopened today and I have two free passes. It's just around the cornerfrom your place. Do you want to go?" Yeah. I heard about that too." I had seen a flyer about the exhibit acouple weeks ago. It was an exhibit of the work from a famousphotographer I had never heard of. I always said that I wanted to go tomore exhibits, but never seemed motivated enough to. I joined thousands of Parisians, men, women andchildren on the banks of the Seine. I found a spot across from the Louvreand spread my blanket. The blanket I bought the other day was printedwith a brilliant red set of woman's lips across it. It attracted a feweyes among my neighbors and I enjoyed an audience as I removed my muumuuto reveal my swimsuit clad figure. I was not in the least ashamed,humiliated, or nervous at my first time as a woman lounging on the beach.My perky cups made sure of. I was beginning to get hard with the anticipation. I held my breath as the door began to open. When she stepped in I couldn't believe my eyes. There she stood in the door way in just a bra and panties. She was about five and a half feet tall with blond hair (well most of it was blond, there was some red, some black and I think even some orange). In spite of the spectacle her hair provided her most outstanding feature was her breasts, as they stood out a long way. The only thing that ruined the.