"When it first happened, in fact, you began cutting on yourself again. Are you still doing that?"I held up both my arms. "No," I said. "They're healin... now, as you can see."He just shook his head at my fresh scars. "And school? You were taking Office 2000 and...what else was it?" Filing and Keyboarding," I said. "I haven't been to class much. And when I DO go, I can't stay." And why is that?" he inquired.I flung my long red hair back from my face with an impatient gesture. "It makes me too. "Nine inches," Peter said. I stared. She was part of a machine, the metal Chair and her flesh, a bundle of muscle and tissue and nerve endings responding to being fucked. I was turned on and wanted to fuck her, her complete and utter helplessness was like a physical thing in the room. The machine could do anything it wanted to her and she couldn't do anything but take it. I felt dizzy. I wondered what it must be like for her, knowing she was so completely at the mercy of a control box that sat. More

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