The next to go were her memories, tumbling away like leaves from the bed of a pickup on the highway. Her mouth hung open as she continued to stare hel...lessly into the beams. Her will was overwritten with obedience, the place where her memories and personality had been replaced with sexual programming. She was a toy. Her purpose was to be played with by her owner. Any game her owner wanted her to play, she must be prepared to play. As the beams burned this and other things into what had been her. Dancing has always turned me on, the moment a beat falls and my hips jut rhythmically and unconsciously. Something about a room full of people so consumed and filled by a common purpose that always made me feel new, fresh, enlivened. Tonight I’d started as part of a group and as always drifted off on my own as friends slowly tired and left. Just me and strangers left. Our bodies dangerously close, brushing but not touching. My arms are raised now, my smooth stomach exposed and my body moving. More

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