We touched, sometimes accidentally, mostly intentionally. There was that something again and again. “Are you wet?” I was stunned. “What?” “I...asked, are you wet?” I had to think, to let myself find out. “Well, actually, no.” She smiled, “Good.” “Good?” “Of course. We have been talking, so far, about things, about our lives, about our plans, our families. So far that is.” She grinned. “Do you realise it’s 11 o’clock?” I’d had no idea. She stood and I followed suit. We wished the staff good night. First, the handcuffs, then the humiliating removal of all her clothing, and the final shame of the brutal cavity search by the smiling female guard. The screams of the unknown prisoner had become shriller and more distinct in intensity. "Whack!" "Oh migawd! Stop! I'll do anything." The pattern was unmistakable and Olga's imagination fearfully filled in all the details. Olga was young and not entirely unpretty. Her nubile body had never been subjected any indignities or physical. More

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