Those people are usually lower ranking, ignored except in an emergency, and then shoved back into their boxes when the crisis is over, types of people...And I was about to join their ranks. I wasn't asked if I wanted to. My interests, concerns and desires were never taken into account. Maybe they didn't think I had any.Fact is, when I wasn't working I spent most of my time at various libraries. I didn't watch TV, didn't go to movies or concerts, didn't hang out in bars or clubs, didn't have. There was no sign of my roommate, Samantha, so I set my alarm for a few hours into the afternoon and fell into a deep sleep. I woke up with a jolt, my limbs tense. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. My gasp of exclamation halted from my lips by the all so familiar feeling of a ball gag. I went to investigate with my hands, but I was bound, my hands and feet to the bed post, my legs spread open. I was stripped naked of my playboy outfit. I struggled as I lay on my back. What was. Finally, long, thigh high leather boots, gave her the looks of a woman who was trying to reclaim her lost years by dressing like a siren.My mother, you see, now dressed like a whore and that was not the worst part.Behind her stood a man. Dressed in black leather jacket and leather pants, he looked like a biker. But I knew he wasnt. He was in his mid 30s, white, clean shaved , thin and short, no more than 5' 5". He wanted to look dangerous but it was obvious he wasn't. He was probably an. He fumbled a bottle of juice her was taking out of the refrigerated section. The plastic bottle bounced and then rolled across the floor of the store. The knew that they were causing a little scene in the store.As they walked to the car, Andrea noticed a man pumping gas in the next island. He spotted her short dress and open cleavage as she approached the car. Fully aware of his stares, Andrea opened the car door and then leaned over in the back seat as if retrieve something from the floor of.