?Yes,? I barely managed to say. ?You’ll make a perfect slave,? he laughed. ?You’re not letting me go?? I cried. ?I never said...I would; what gave you that idea?? Somehow I had forgotten that he had promised to keep me in the house. He would use me like this until I either died or ran away. I reassured myself that he was just one man and that this was a residential house and that once I was off the drugs and could think straight I would be able to escape. I lay. As I massaged my thigh, the back of my fingers was rubbing against his leg. When he didn’t jerk his leg away, I kept rubbing until my hand was actually on his knee. I sat there like a statue waiting for a reaction. When no reaction came, I started to slowly caress his leg as I inch my hand up his thigh. I really had no idea what I was doing or going to do, but this was what I’d done when I was a teenager touching a girls bare thigh in the back row on Saturday night. Of course the girl always. More

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