”“Lets have her up on the table.” “Yes. On the table please Jo. And I think the skirt should come off too.”“Yeah come on…” a chorus of...voices called for her to get on the table.She found herself kneeling on the table hands helping her skirt off and her bra unclipped and removed. She was down to her suspender belt, black seamed stockings, and black heels. There was no chance of her carrying on her presentation. She was on her knees with her elbows on the desk top, her arse raised into the air,. All I can do after alcohol is get up and look for water. This time it was not, because next to me stood a bottle of cold water."Are you alive? We had to carry you all the way to us. Luckily, you're not that big." - I heard from behind my back.Magda and Maria stood behind me. It was terrifying."Y... Yes... I'm alive, but it feels weak." - I barely answered.You're pretty sweet after alcohol. You have professed our love and ..."And... what? Well, say..." - I answered with curiosity."You said you. But the things he was doing to her now were unbearable. She knew she wouldn’t be able to take it much longer...and he wasn’t offering her to get off the rack either. That terrified her, what if he raped her…forever? It was far worse than any of the torture she’d endured so far and, on top of that, there was no escape. Besides, he had started acting as if they were some sort of couple, and during their last session she’d given in to him, and to the pleasure she hadn’t felt in a very long. It was more a matter of her getting angry and me doing what she ordered. In a sick/funny sort of way, this is exactly the opposite of how it used to be. Whenever we argued in the past, I merely raised my voice and Stephie did as she was told. Of course, unlike her, I was only acting in both of our best interests. Stephie seems to be acting more or less without thinking about my feelings.The next day I wore Stephie's clothes for the first time. Stephie "allowed" me to wear a pair of very tight.
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