“Curtains, Britney!”Britney yelped and charged for the curtains. Confusion gripped her mind. She couldn't think, only act. She reached the heavy c...rtains and yanked them shut. Mr. D'Angelo's screams died down. His body stopped thrashing.“Mr. D'Angelo,” she gasped. “Oh, my god, what happened? Where is Abigail?”“Need to...” he muttered, his face a charred mask. “Help...me...”Britney opened her hand, staring at the key. Then she glanced up at the manacles. “I'll get you down, then I'll call for. “My only pleasure, my only joy,” she whispered intothe night. Paul held her wrists down, but she rolledher hips and used him for her own pleasure, archedher back and scraped her nipples against his chest.He bit the skin on her neck until she gasped andwrithed, and came.“There’s real passion in your drawings,” her artteacher said. She coughed, blushed, but didn’t saywhy: she masturbated while drawing.On the nights she was alone, she lay on her stomachon top of. More

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