“I have never done anything like that before,” she said. “I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.”“My god no!” I said. “Don’t apolo...ize. It was insanely hot. Besides, do you know how good for my ego it is that the mere scent of me gets you off?”She smiled shyly. “It also might mean that your window of opportunity is wider than you originally thought,” I said. “Four or five days instead of one or two,” she agreed. “I guess I was in so much pain before I didn’t notice the horny.”“The girls will be. ” With that he walked out of the room and the women came in with our meal. Surprisingly, the food was quite good.I, surprisingly, was finally was able to fall asleep. It was hard because the mattress was lumpy and several of the other girls were weeping and then our position would get to them and they would start wailing. I wasn’t crying because I figured that whatever happened would probably make me cry anyway and since there was nothing I could do about it I’d save my tears for later.The. My blood boiled with hate for the judges, my father, for Janice, and especially for the men who operated the whipping machine. Perhaps it was towards my father that most of my hate was directed; he could have used his influence to get me off with just a reprimand, but deliberately did nothing and seemed to gloat when he heard my sentence. "Given half a chance, I'll cut his balls off," I told myself, but knowing it would only land me in more trouble. There was no denying any accusation when they. So, between my freshman and sophomore years, Dad helped me get into a nice two-bedroom apartment.From that point on, school, and my life, slowed down to a less frenetic pace. I carried a good full load of classes, and a total of five very busy years later at SFU, ending up with my Double BA’s in Theatre Performance and Theatre Design.My apartment was about a mile south of SFU and was about twenty miles north of our folk’s home in La Cienega. I now work for the University in the Performance Arts.