To my frightened eyes in the semi-dark of his car, the thing sticking out of his pants looked like the business end of a baseball bat. It wasn't all t...at long, but it was very wide.He said "Do a good job, or I'll fuck you in the ass. Got it, bitch?"Oh yeah, I got it. It would have been bad enough having that thing destroying my hymen, but I certainly didn't want it breaking my dark cherry either. I knew it was Sharon who he wanted to get even with, but I had put myself in the position of being. "You can draw me now," I whispered. And that he did. He started to create the contours of my body. He worked fast, but precise. For twenty minutes I stood there, following the movement of his arm with my eyes. After those twenty minutes, Mr. Monet threw away his paintbrush. He looked at me, twitching his head as a way of summoning me. I walked towards him, around the easel, and looked at his work. It was the most impressive painting. It seemed to consist of only one smooth line, as if he had. More

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