She was beginning to smell like a wine bottle, but she didn't care. She imagined herself a whore-slave, a tramp. How disgusting she must look! She gig...led. If the rich boys could only see Miss Lynn Smith now, she thought. Would they kiss her ass now, or would they piss on her? Who cares? She might enjoy that for once - getting pissed on."Lynn, you're the whore of the earth," she said out loud, listening to the words stumble out of her mouth. She wasn't quite sure, but she seemed to be moving. It was cloaked and hooded in such a way I could be sureof no features, but when it touched my hand I shuddered involuntarily.But despite my discomfort, I let the creature take my hand, and it pointedto one of the many paths, which lit up from within.A moment later, a woman appeared, standing on the path that was lit, andshe looked at me for a long moment before she spoke.She might have been pretty once, but it was clear she had lived a hardlife - signs of bruises on her face, and far more care. More

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