Blinking away the bright afterimage of the beam she aimed it towards the prow to get a better look at whatever had fallen near her.It was a body.A wet... pale, human corpse.No, not a corpse.It moved.She watched in slow horror as the pale form twitched.“Help,” it rasped, still face down on the deck. She’d heard a man with punctured lungs try to talk before. That’s what the person laying on the deck in front of her reminded her of. The sound was wet and forced. Every tiny hair on her body prickled. I didn't think that that submissiveness was anything morethan a temporary feeling or experience. I was also amazed andappreciative now at how men seemed to find "me" and how much I had grownas a woman from my discussions and now sensual interactions with "them."I suppose when a girl like me who knows how to "dress to attract" showsup at the bar on Friday Night in a teensy, black lace mini dress, blacksilk hosiery, and five inch black platform high heels, my intent hadperhaps more than. More

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