“What?” she cried out. “I said I’m yours.”The boy leaped on her, rolling the sobbing woman onto her belly as he wrapped the belt around her ...hroat. Pulling back hard, he made his aunt bow her back as he hissed into her ear.“I own you,” he said. “It’s not up to you whether or not you’re my slave or whether or not you fuck me. I own you.”Bridgette’s hands clawed at the belt but there was no give. She began to see spots in front of her eyes as her breathing was stopped. Desperately, she tried to. I had not developed any finger blisters which surprised me.Many baseball players, young and old, good and bad, had come and gone by then. We still had about sixty hopefuls, and Jepperson's minions had been out creating a farm system of sorts so that they would all have places to go when the season began in about a month. I was probably the oldest after Makeeta got hurt, and Junkins and I were certainly the most experienced ball players still there. I wish I could say that experience counted for. More

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