Now even more curious, I followed the trail of rose petals into the bedroom hallway where it led me directly to the open door to Jeanne's boudoir. I p...used and listened. I could hear movement inside the room. I noticed a sign on the open door. It read, “Please come in.” Unsure about what to expect, I took a deep breath and stepped through the door.Jeanne was lying on her back on the bed naked. Her legs were spread. Another woman was lying on her stomach between Jeanne's legs, her face pressed. Until then, even as she underwent the other brutal torments the captive blonde had never imagined being grateful to be allowed to drink her own urine in front of an audience, but as soon as she had the chance, she gulped for all she was worth. After the cruel trick with the jug, even the warmth and bitter taste were welcome, heralding the release of pressure from her aching bladder at last.As with any pleasure or relief granted to the helpless victims held there, though, this was to be. More

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