I walk down the street towards my apartment. It's been one month and twelve days since Damien was shot, although it still feels like yesterday. I just...got off work, and all I can think about is Damien and how much I miss him. I think back to that night as I walk. When I focus hard enough on it, I can still feel his blood on my hands and my knees shaking through my calmness. Damien's been on sick leave from work since the shooting, so I don't see him as much as I'd like. I go to his house every. And the more ridiculous he felt. The cries of a pubescent Barbie doll spluttered from his throat, the tone completely alien to him. He felt his penis stirring again. Seconds later, coming to a feeble, quivering, half-hearted insult of an erection."Oh, it's still trying!" Dana stroked Ryan's member with a long red nail.His hands were bound in pink mittens, irremovable because of the securely padlocked wrist bindings. He was looking down at them to avoid her face, his glance fell further, down. More

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