It was dark, my hands were handcuffed, my legs tied together. Pissed off, with an aching head far worse than any pain I had ever endured before, I sta...ted thrashing. I soon realized that I had been put in a body bag. “He’s awake,” I heard someone saw. “Good, get him out of that thing;” said another. Tory? They wore black hoods like terrorists, so I couldn’t see who was pulling me out of the bag. It didn’t much matter as they soon hooded me, and I couldn’t see anything anymore. They undid my. She was holding the top of it tightly around her breasts with one hand but the other arm had strayed into the folds of the towel and was busy moving around between her legs. Ben couldn’t see what that hand was doing from his angle, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.“How long have you been standing there?” He demanded. He knew he should be embarrassed, should be trying to cover himself, should be trying to pull his pants up but he didn’t feel or do any of those things. Nor did Gwen. I dismissed each of them quickly.The next morning my first interviewee was a Miss Alice Farnsworth, who appeared on my porch at about ten. She was a pretty blond woman who tried to look younger by sporting a pony tail, although it was obvious to me that she was in her late twenties. She was tastefully attired in a skirt and jacket."Good morning, Mr. Berghoff," she said cheerfully with a large smile. "Isn't it a splendid Spring day?" Yes, indeed, Miss Farnsworth. It promises to be warm this. So here we go!My husband decides to start with a nice little bar with a subdued atmosphere. My entrance doesn't go unnoticed, and I can feel the looks coming down on my fat ass. I hear some women say, "Look at that bitch, she looks like a real whore". But men don't miss a thing. The waiter comes to take our order, his eyes open like marbles. And I could see that he was hard on when he came back with our drinks.Shortly afterwards a small group of 3 men sat at the table next to us. A few strong.