This prompted the return of panic, but a sense of inevitability accompanied it.Short, heavy breaths left her nose. The material crammed into her mouth...was soaked through and dense, now compressed through so much gnashing of her teeth. She tried to spit it out, working her tongue against the ball of cloth. A frustrated, grating cry climbed to her molars when she couldn’t dislodge it. Her thighs tensed, desperate to close, to protect her most private parts, and through it all, her back still. With every thing that had happened I had gotten more and more turned on. I can't believe I went into a strip bar and actually touched a filthy whore of a dancer. I just don't know how to justify my actions. Every time this man makes me do some depraved thing, I go blank. I - I just do it. Whatever it is. Like someone programmed me and put me on autopilot.I looked down and surveyed myself. I still looked ok on the outside. I slid my fingers around the edges of my panties, straightening things. More

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