He put the key to the locks on the desk behind him and then secured it with two more locks to the metal loops sticking up out of the floor. She cried...unabashedly and struggled with her bonds. "Let me go, Mr. Pearse! Please." She quickly remembered that she was to call him Sir or Master. "Please, Sir!" But it was too late. He chuckled and slapped her breast. "That's for calling me Mr. Pearse." He wasn't about to let it go. She cried out in pain but it only excited him more. He reached. They were both unshaven and dressed alike, in stained suit coats and wrinkled pants with scuffed shoes. The pair looked and smelled and acted nothing at all like most of the people Jessica saw in a normal day. They didn’t talk like most people either. ‘Hey lady, can I suck your tits after the kid is done?’ the taller man asked. He laughed at what he considered his clever bon mot. ‘Yeah, me too,’ the red-haired man added. ‘And then I wanna fuck you.’ As if he needed to show the frightened. More

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