A shirt hung over the foot of the bed, obviously belonging to the man who had taken her from her home the previous night. She pulled herself away, sto...d to step back from the garment as if it were about to attack.She was thirsty; so thirsty that her throat felt like it had closed. Pulling one of the bottles of water from the box, she opened it and drained it completely before setting it back down. The water helped to clear her mind, to strengthen her resolve. She needed to get away.There was no. “We’re going to get dressed and go home to the people we love. I’m going to figure out how to sit still in the car,” I said, feeling my tormented flesh rebel against my clothes, “and how to not undress in front of Ben for about a week. And you,” I said, picking up the riding crop from the copier, “are taking your lovely bride away for the weekend. Take this. You probably won’t use it, but take it, it’s yours; I got it for you.” I gave him a friendly wink. “And you sure know how to use it.”His. More

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