He stood and crept to the stairs but didn’t hear her going through the closets or packing suitcases. Fortunately, he also didn’t hear their sons w...king. He sat back down to consider what to do.As soon as he had seen the thong, he knew what had happened. Late last week he had an early afternoon, when two cancellations left him without any tennis lessons and a free afternoon. He had decided to leave early and as he was going through the parking lot to his Corolla, he saw Lisette Jorgens standing. She wouldn’t now be a virgin, destined to grow old (or die young), without ever getting laid. Not that getting laid was how it went with Gunther. That was just rape in progress.Grabbing a pair of clean towels, Rebecca entered the bathroom and turned on the lights. Spotting her reflection, she turned to face the big-chested girl, examining her curiously in the glass. She’d put on weight the first six months, only to lose it again over the following ten. Except for her ragged hair, she looked. Passing out later she, who had never even imagined being homosexual, was still the center of an all woman orgy with her face being ridden like a sex toy.The next morning started her true nightmare. Shackled hand and foot she was shoved into an ice cold shower she was thoroughly scrubbed by one of the women until her skin was bright pink. Her hair was braided, makeup done and she was sent to work in the brothels bar wearing nothing but a mono-glove and a shock collar. A tray hung from her neck. From the bed he heard Amy gasping, “Quit it dipshit! Just leave us alone!” Looking up, through his tears of agony and rage, Alan saw Frank looming over him. A lean, muscular, wrestler’s build. Brown hair, with frosted tips gelled up into spikes on his head, a barbwire tattoo poking out of the sleeve of his Hollister T-shirt. And the fucking grin. He seemed to summarize everything Alan hated. He reached up to grasp the goddamn phone, hoping the gesture was not as pathetic as it felt, but far too.