He then pulled away.“I did not give you permission to do that,” he said.“What? I thought you wante—““Stand up.”“What?”“Did I stutt...r? Stand. Up.”She slowly brought herself up.“Now pull up your skirt.”“Why?”“You are asking an awful lot of questions. Just do as you’re told.”Hesitantly, she pulled up her skirt, revealing a lacy black thong.“Now place your elbows on the desk and bend over.”She slowly started to do so.Benjamin took a step toward her and began to massage her cheeks.Cynthia was so. He announces rather loudly that we are going back to our room. This time, still holding me by my wrist, we are not separated. As the doors open to our floor, he leads me off the elevator, and back to our room, still without so much as a word. I know not to ask, I know I’ve done something he’s not happy with, and I better not make it any worse. In what seems to be one single motion, he sits on the bed, grabs my hairbrush from my purse, pulls off my jeans and black lace panties, and pulls me. More

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