But I remained silent. My mouth had gone dry. My cock had swelled. I couldn't find my voice. There was too much truth in what she said.'I knew it.'She...said it softly, confidently, triumphantly. In the end it was my uncharacteristic silence that gave me away. I hated being so transparent.'Maybe I should order YOU to the parking lot.'She had always been my sex toy, but now she seemed to revel at having some level of control over me. I continued my silence, momentarily stymied by the unwanted. “This is where I live,” she tells me easily, then takes my free hand, and I use my crutch with the other to walk beside her. I notice the same scent of vanilla and flowers in the air, which I’d noticed on her in the hospital.Looking over to the young woman with the blue hair and punk clothes--this time it’s a blue or purple slashed summer dress that barely covers her hips--I can’t see this being where she lives. It just doesn’t match her. “A punk girl like you, lives in a field of flowers?”She. More

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