Where am I? That was easy to answer as he looked around his room,although he seemed to be lying on something soft on the floor ratherthan on his bed. ...is heart leapt at his second thought.Who am I? He looked down at the obviously fake breasts glued to hischest again, the silk ribbons and the handcuffs on his wrists althoughthe fake breasts seemed realler than before and the handcuffs weren'tcheap chrome-plated Chinese restraints but slimmer, more elegantbracelets that were form-fitting around. It was worse somehow because he didn’t think I was worth fighting for. At least that’s how I felt. And Mom, God love her, played the victim even though she was already living with a lawyer.I had to find a new position in a new family. When I figured it out, I was fourteen years old. To be honest it wasn’t my step father’s idea. It was mine totally. I can only blame him from not saying no. He was a grown man and I was a fourteen year old child. That isn’t the point.The point was I began to flirt. More

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