I wanted it and I didn't want it. The rhythm almost matched the stroke of the tongue. The first slap to my nipple sent electricity to my sex. I arched...my back more than my bound arms forced me to. Even with my legs bound, I managed to shift so even more of me hung through the hole in the chair. Alex let out a long breath. Her face was flushed. She struck my nipple again. In the moment of pain, my arousal receded but in the instant afterwards, blood flooded to my groin, the touch between my legs. Most the low level guys sent to guard me were as bored as I was, and asked questions or told jokes. I knew Arabic before that day in the mountainside convoy, and over the three years, I become fairly fluent.Qasim also liked to come and visit me from time to time. There were not very many educated men among his group, and he liked to chat. He thought of it as 'testing his wits against the American', but really it was just petty showmanship. He wanted me never to forget that I was the prisoner,. More

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