She tried to hide the raging inferno within her by presenting her body as a cold unresponsive slab of ice to her tormentors, hoping they would give-up... But her rebellious body again betrayed her to Crivelli’s wondering fingers which were exploring her warm moist interior. Crivelli smiled as his probing fingers detected increased wetness in Rachel’s vagina: “I think I found the accelerator for this little hot-rod, and I am going to floor the pedal and burn rubber…” With that, he buried his. She’d done the research. She’d scanned the conversation carefully, waiting, but her kairos had eluded her once again. Perhaps it was a human thing-some secret intuition-bearing structure her lab monkeys hadn’t manage to ferret out of their many medical cadavers. Maybe it really was an intractable metaphysical problem-a soul or something that she lacked the voodoo to steal. She dropped her glass. It hit the floor an infinite number of infinitesimal moments later and shattered, scattering into. More

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