"What about it?  What’s your answer, Wendy?"

I nervously glanced round at the group of boys surrounded me.  I felt confused, and didn’t know what to say.  Was this some sort of sick joke, or did they expect me to take them seriously?  I felt threatened, for I’d never been in this position before.  I told myself that they weren’t being serious, that this was a typical boys’ sick joke, but I couldn’t be sure.  Part of me told me that they couldn’t be serious, for I was being asked. In my experience, boys who wanted something desperately just plunged in and took it, without asking first. Even an innocent eighteen-year-old country girl like me knew that.

Then why had Richard asked me to his home?  I’d already discovered that Richard Holsworthy was one of the most popular guys on campus, a third-year law student, and I was in my first year at college. Actually, the term had only been going three weeks, so I hadn’t made any real friends yet and, without any preamble, Richard had looked me up and down a couple of times and had surprised and delighted me by saying, "If you aren’t doing anything on Saturday afternoon, Wendy, come to my place," and he’d handed me a slip of paper on which he’d casually scrawled his address.

I naturally thought the invitation was for one of those casual drop-in-if-you-like parties that even us country hicks are competent with, so here I was, casually dressed in a cute miniskirt and simple crossover top, looking - and feeling - more like fourteen than eighteen, as I hadn’t thought to dress in a more sophisticated manner.  After all, naïve was my middle name!

Alarm bells sounded instantly when I discovered that there appeared to be no party, just myself and five boys - all older than me.  Richard’s parents were clearly not at home, so I had no support there.  Talk about being outnumbered!  And now, only minutes after I’d arrived, and Richard had shown me briefly around the place, they’d surrounded me and had made that peculiar suggestion.  It was as though that was the sole reason they’d invited me.

"What about it?"  Richard asked again, his eyes boring into mine, his stance confident and utterly relaxed but, behind that seemingly innocent façade there lurked a resolve of steel that cramped my stomach with an icy clutch that took my breath away.

"I don’t want to be tied up," I protested, doing my level best to keep the repulsion and fear I felt out of my voice.  I suddenly wished I’d worn a longer skirt or, even better, jeans - and a top which didn’t have the disconcerting habit of gaping open so that people were rewarded with a fleeting glimpse of my small but nicely firm breasts. 

The thought flashed through my mind that I could ask to go back to my lodgings and change, but I knew they wouldn’t let that happen.  No one had actually threatened me in any way so far, but I sensed with perfectly logical feminine intuition that I was effectively cornered, trapped and completely outnumbered.  They wouldn’t let me go like that, on such a flimsy excuse.  Nor had I a mobile phone with me which I could pretend had rung to demand my presence somewhere else.

Of course, I had been cock-a-hoop that Richard given me that invitation to his home.  I thought I might make a few friends at last.  I simply hadn’t thought beyond that.  I’ve already told you that I tend to be distressingly naïve at times.

"You’ll enjoy being tied up," Richard said encouragingly.

"No I won’t!"  I snapped.  "It’s a grotesque idea!"

"Ever had it done to you?"

I shook my head.  "No!  Nor do I want it done to me... ever!"

"That’s a pity," Richard mused, for we’d carefully looked you over, and had decided that you would willingly go along with our suggestion.  We were quite confident about that.  None of us enjoys being proved wrong."

I felt myself cringe at the way he had deliberately emphasized the word ‘willingly’, for it none too subtly indicated that if I didn’t agree ‘willingly’, they had other alternatives in mind.  And I didn’t like the sound of that at all.  "And that’s why you invited me here this afternoon," I asserted angrily.

Richard smiled, and glanced around him, exchanging knowing glances with the other lads, who were standing quite still, offering me no overt threat, but were clearly waiting for their leader to give them a command.  And then they would spring into immediate action.  And I would be in the center of that action.  "That’s the only reason we invited you here this afternoon, Wendy," he replied with brutal honesty.

"Then you’ve chosen the wrong person," I asserted bravely.

Richard shook his head.  "I don’t think so," he countered, the beginnings of irritation showing in his so-far controlled body language.  "Not that it matters," he continued, the smile instantly disappearing from his features as though it had never been, "for it would be no problem for us to simply take you by force.  Do you think you would stand any chance of fending off the five of us?"

I shook my head unhappily.  I was really frightened now, although I tried not to show it.  I knew what he said was true.  I was completely at their mercy.  I had naïvely walked into a trap.  I had never been tied up in my life.  I sure as hell didn’t want to be tied up now.  I wanted to be away from here, to return to my lodgings, to study that particularly confusing passage in that obscure novel we had been set to read for discussion next week.  "Please let me go," I begged, conscious that this was my very last line of defense.  "Please let me go," I repeated, hoping that doing so might reinforce the idea in their minds.

Richard shook his head again, and reflectively stroked his neatly trimmed goatee beard.  "We chose you, remember, and I’m seldom wrong."  He considered for a moment.  "We might be able to strike a bargain with you," he suggested archly.

I closed my eyes and looked down at my sandal-clad bare feet.  I felt my hopes rise, then immediately dash when I saw the way they were crowding in on me.  I knew right away I was doomed.  "I’m not open to any bargains," I said, trying my best to keep my voice steady, for I knew that, whatever I said, or didn’t say now, I was going to be tied up any moment, and then I would be completely at their mercy.  It wasn’t a nice thought.  In fact, I’d never dreaded anything more.  I glanced around the garden behind the majestic suburban house where we were still standing.  The in-ground swimming pool appeared to be almost Olympic size, and the whole area was surrounded by a dense thicket of trees and shrubs, making it extremely private.  There was definitely no help from invisible neighbors. 

"Pity,"  Richard said, taking a short length of rope out of his pocket and gently swinging it hypnotically before my eyes, lasso fashion,  "For if you agreed to our request, we would tie you up dressed as you are now but, on the other hand..."  he paused for maximum effect, which had the desired effect of turning my insides to jelly, "if we are impelled to take you by force, we will strip you completely naked first... and who knows what might happen to you then!  So what’s it to be?"

"Dressed," I murmured, sensing I was signing my very own death warrant.  Perhaps, if I agreed, they would get it over and done with quickly.  I looked down again.  I simply couldn’t bear to take in that expression of smugness on their faces.

"That’s a good girl!"  Richard smiled.  "I knew you would see it our way."

I swallowed hard.  My mouth had suddenly gone terribly dry.  I had heard people say that fear was inclined to have this effect.

"And you are perfectly willing for us to do this to you," Richard added with a sly grin.

I shook my head.  "I am not perfectly willing," I said.  "You are forcing me into this against my will."

"Oh, come, come!"  Richard exclaimed.  "How can you possibly say that, Wendy?  We haven’t even laid a hand on you so far.  Have we?"

I shook my head.

"You have already been given one choice... and have made a choice.  Isn’t that true?"

I meekly agreed that it was.  I wished the ground would open up and cause me to disappear.  Anything, as long as I didn’t have to go through this.

"Then, as you are not being forced in any way, I would like you to tell us that you are willing for this to happen to you.  Is that too much to ask of friends?  After all, you came here of your own free will, Wendy.  Isn’t that true?"

I stood perfectly still.  I was utterly confused by his convoluted arguments which demanded contradictory responses.  I felt I was standing on the very edge of an exceedingly high cliff, and a puff of wind might blow me over the edge at any moment.

It was then, as if at an unspoken command, that they all took a small step towards me.  They were almost touching me now, hemming me in with a complete circle of predatory masculinity.  I could almost smell their desire to get their hands on me.  I could sense their impatience to get started with this horrible business.  My legs began to tremble with abject terror.  All I could think of was how utterly helpless I was.  I felt stripped naked - even though they’d agreed not to do that to me.  But could I trust their assurance?  I very much doubted it.

"And remember," Richard said softly, his face so close to mine now that I could feel his breath as he carefully shaped his words, "we chose you for this afternoon out of all the other girls at the college.  Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

I didn’t know what to think.  I felt my involuntary resignation to whatever they were going to do to me take hold.  After all, I was the chosen one.  That must mean something.  I felt part of me relax slightly.  But only very slightly, for I knew that my freedom was to be counted in moments only.

"Willingly?" Richard persisted.

"Willingly," I whispered.  There wasn’t anything else I could do.  I was as trapped by words as I was by their ever-threatening presence.  I hoped that if I agreed, they would go easy on me.  I let my shoulders slump with utter resignation to my impending fate.  I no longer cared what happened to me.

"Good girl!"  Richard smiled.

And I felt myself being lifted up, and then carried to the edge of the swimming pool, where there was a large beach towel spread out on the tiled surround.

I stood and looked down at the brightly colored cloth, feeling like the proverbial sacrificial virgin.  Despite my apprehension, I almost smiled a tight little nervous smile at that thought.  It was peculiarly apt in a way.  I was far from being a virgin, of course, but the similitude was close enough.

"Relax, Wendy," Richard said, watching carefully as the others gently placed me face down on the towel.

That gentleness silenced the terrified screams that were about to erupt from my mouth.  I suddenly realized they had no desire to hurt me, for if they intended to do so, they would have done so already.  They merely planned to tie me up.  Was that entirely bad, I wondered.  But I couldn’t get out of my mind that I was completely at their mercy, and that was a mind-numbing thought.

My mind dissolved into a vapid blank as they gently but firmly drew my arms behind my back.  I forced my eyes tightly closed and prayed that this was a dream from which I would wake any moment now.

Then I felt a rope being wound carefully round and round my wrists.  It was then that I began to panic, for if they tied my wrists together, I wouldn’t be able to move.  And I knew I was going to hate that.  It would be awful.  Hateful.  I made to resist, but someone had a firm hand in the middle of my back.  Holding me down.  Sealing my immediate fate.

It was strange.  Their every touch was firm and masterful, yet surprisingly gentle at the same time.  The mixed messages were making it difficult for me to stay afloat mentally.

The rope was passed between my wrists, and then knotted.  I could scarcely breathe.  I knew then that they had me completely at their mercy.  They could do whatever they wanted with me now, and I wouldn’t be able to stop them.  I had never been so frightened.  But in that small space of time when they were obviously considering their next move, I experienced a curious calm sweep over me.  And, strangely enough, I sensed that they were pleased with me because I hadn’t resisted - something which I hadn’t even thought about doing for some unknown reason.

To my horror, they firmly bound my elbows, pulling them as closely together as they could get them.  The tension on my shoulders made me gasp.  This was going to be far worse than I’d first thought.  I’d expected them to nominally tie my wrists and ankles, as I’d seen done to other girls at parties, who took it in good part, giggling at the fun element of it.  But this was quite different.  This wasn’t a fun tie-up.  This was for real.  They were not joking.  They were not playing a game.  They were being deadly serious.  And I was the epicenter of their seriousness!

"I think we will go for the classic hogtie," Richard remarked.  "She isn’t making a fuss.  She is clearly enjoying this."

"You think so?" one of the other boys, who hadn’t spoken until now, asked.  There was a slight element of concern in his voice, but the major part of it was enthusiasm for what they were doing.

"Sure!  She would struggle like mad and scream like a demon if she wasn’t going along with it.  Trust me.  She likes it... even if she won’t admit it, even to herself, at the moment.  And... you watch... she’ll even come back for more."

"You reckon?"

"I know."

The conversation behind my back sounded oddly distant.  They were discussing someone who wasn’t struggling, someone who would come back for more.  I couldn’t imagine anyone actually doing that.  Then I realized that I was the one who wasn’t struggling.  I was meekly letting them do this to me.  Perhaps I was enjoying it after all, though I didn’t think I was.  I wasn’t exactly hating it now, for part of me was even savoring the gentle but persuasive way they were taking control of me.  No one had done anything even remotely like this to me before.  But I still wished they would stop, let me go and decide to do something else.

To my alarm, they bound my ankles together, making me suddenly conscious of my long, bare legs.  I suspected they intended taking every possible movement from me.  I also knew I ought to hate this absolutely, but something seemed to come over me, for I was effectively surrendering to them as only a girl knows how to surrender.  It was a significant sort of sacrifice - the surrender of my liberty. I suddenly felt extremely feminine.  It was a particularly nice feeling, especially as I’ve always enjoyed being a girl.  The fact was that once they’d fastened my wrists together, a certain sort of inevitability entered the equation.  I was helpless, I couldn’t stop them from doing whatever they wanted to me, so I, to some extent, accepted the situation and let myself sink into a passive oblivion.  I felt myself begin to relax into the enforced inactivity - something I wouldn’t have dreamed in a million years I would do.  And, strangely enough, that realization heightened my awareness until my very thoughts became unusually brittle.  I could scarcely believe it, but I was almost beginning to trust them.  Or was I?

But I was horrified when they pulled my bound ankles up to my arms and fastened them there, shaping my body into a malicious backward curve.  It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, but had the effect of denying me any movement at all.  The feeling immediately became frighteningly pleasant - another surrender on my part?  And, to my horror, I found the constriction incredibly sexy.  I was no longer just a girl, but a captive girl who was helpless in the hands of five horny men.

"There," Richard said.  "I said it would be all right.  Aren’t you pleased with yourself now?" he asked.

I couldn’t think of what to say.  I knew I ought to beg them to release me, but I just couldn’t find the words.

"She looks really good to me," one of the boys remarked.  "I could go a bundle on that lovely body.  And, you know, she looks even better tied up than she does when she’s moving about."

"But I shall always see her hogtied now," another voice commented.  "I hope it doesn’t make me too turned on, particularly in front of my girlfriend."

Someone laughed at that.  "You could always tie her up," he suggested, "then she would turn you on even more!"

"Some hopes of that!  She won’t even entertain the idea."

"You ought to change her for a more affable model, Pete.  What about Wendy here?  Now, she’s a really good sport!"

Normally, I didn’t care for being talked about behind my back, but when you heard nice things about you, it was different, I discovered.

"I said she would be a natural," Richard exclaimed, a fair amount of pride coloring his voice.  "We sure chose the right one this time!"

I felt warmed by those words of approbation, for I always enjoyed pleasing others.  What girl doesn’t?  And, for a moment, I actually forgot the frightful predicament I was in.  I tried to move, to ease the strain in my cruelly arched back, but discovered that absolutely no movement was possible.  I was completely trapped, firmly locked into position.  Nor could I reach the knots that so cleverly secured me.  I would have no way of freeing myself.  I would just have to wait until they decided to release me.  It was fortunate that I had always been a patient person, for I sensed their extreme enjoyment, and pleasure with what they had done to me, and that they likely would want to enjoy what they had done to me for some time.

"I’ve always maintained," Richard remarked, "that the hogtie, when done properly, is one of the most effective ties of all."

They all agreed with him.  And discussed it for some time, whilst I lay still, feeling strangely warmed by their enjoyment of me.  I had done what they had wanted, what they had invited me here for.  I was the center of their attention.  I was exactly where they wanted me to be.  It was, for me, an unusual experience.

I felt Richard hovering over me.  He touched the ropes that were securing me, and I thought for one horrible moment that he was going to release me, but he was only checking that they were secure.  "Enjoying that?" he asked me.  "Be honest with me.  That’s a part of what this is all about, you know."

I remained silent for a moment, wondering how I was going to put my thoughts - which even I couldn’t begin to understand - into simple words.

"Say what comes into your mind," Richard prompted.  "Don’t think about it.  Are you enjoying that, Wendy?’

"It’s all right," I murmured, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t wanted him to untie me just yet.  I wanted to see where this new experience was going to lead me.  Its affect on me was utterly overwhelming.  I began to feel almost glad that I had agreed to it.

He went to stand up then, as if surrendering to a momentary temptation; he flicked my short skirt up, completely revealing my legs and my wickedly brief panties, which were something of a fashion statement with me.  Or was it a forthright fetish?  I’d never been able to decide.   I knew I should wriggle about trying to encourage my skirt back into place again, but I suddenly didn’t want to.  If that was what he wanted from me, then I would willingly go along with it.  And the decision made me feel sexier than ever.  Frankly, it was indecent.

He muttered something I couldn’t hear, though I took it as complementary, and then gave me a stinging slap on my almost bare buttock.

The sharp little pain faded quickly enough, but the sexual glow suddenly flamed into an animal’s growl that completely overwhelmed me.  I had never experienced this so strongly.  And being tied up like this, I was forced to live with it, as it became my whole world.

"I think we ought to leave her for a while to savor the experience," Richard decided.

I was left alone, with only the slight summer breeze on my back and the sound of the wind in the trees overhead for company.  And that incredible sexual yearning!  And all I could do was think!  Richard was right about that!  However, I found that my thinking had become almost as passive as my cruelly restrained body.  I didn’t really want to bother to think any deep and meaningful thoughts, and knew I would never become bored.  I just wanted to be.  It was a strange sensation, but not particularly unpleasant.  Perhaps it was part of the total surrender that had been forced on me.  And which I was now almost glad I had been unwittingly forced into.

I wondered how long they intended leaving me like this, but quickly decided that it didn’t matter.  I was locked in a private little world of my own now, where only my mind was active and that not very - my body having completely gone somewhere else.  Funnily enough though, instead of feeling restricted, as I knew I ought to be, I felt oddly liberated.  It was a truly unique feeling.  I couldn’t make it out.

After quite a while, I heard them approach.  Richard knelt down beside me.  "All right?" he asked.

I nodded. He didn’t really want me to put a reply to that into words, did he?  And if I made any answer, the others, who were crowding around me, would share in it too.

"We’re very pleased with you," he said.  "You realize you haven’t uttered one word of complaint, as some girls do.  Why is that, Wendy?"

"Because I don’t feel the need to," I admitted in a whisper, after considering my answer carefully, sensing them all hanging on my every word.  And it was really nice having them pleased with me.  I loved that.  The ache in my limbs and back began to be transmuted into their pleasure.  The transformation was slow but definite.  It made my being like this just right somehow.  It was an incredible realization, but a totally true one.

Richard leaned over and cupped my buttocks in his hands, only the thin cloth of my panties separating his hands from my bare flesh, holding them firmly for a long moment, sending a wild spasm of hyperactive desire shooting right through me.  He then moved so that he could gently slip my breasts out of my top and begin to fondle them gently, and then more enthusiastically, when I made no objection.  Being utterly helpless, with my arms so firmly tied behind my back seemed to absolve me from any feelings of guilt because I was letting myself be handled like this.  Instead of being concerned about the propriety of the situation, as I would be normally, I could simply relax and just let it all happen to me, and enjoy to the full the incredible response their perfectly natural masculine actions were engendering in my erotically charged feminine body.  Simply put, I had nothing to feel guilty, or even concerned about, for I was the totally innocent helpless recipient of their instinctive masculine attention.  Whatever happened to me now, I was automatically innocent.  It was, frankly, a wonderful feeling.

"You still aren’t complaining," Richard remarked curiously, his tone of voice subtly demanding an answer from me.

But I made no reply, preferring to let myself be submerged by the feelings his hands were engendering in my helpless body.

"We really ought to have stripped you naked," he decided aloud, glancing up at the others.

I went cold all over with the thought of being tied up naked at the hands of these boys.  It was a totally new world which, I decided, I would not be able to enter.  Besides considering myself somewhat naïve, I always thought of myself as a rather private person.  My body simply wasn’t for indiscriminate viewing - particularly when tied up, as they were planning.

"Then we will next time..."

I made no reply.  A tiny voice inside my head told me that this was the next move and that I should go along with it, but another part of me thought how awful it would be for me to be in the power of these five boys totally naked. 

"Blindfolded and gagged?" a different voice suggested.  "I should love to see her blindfolded and gagged."

"That’s a good idea, Pete.  What do you think, Wendy?"

I felt too choked by dread to make any reply.

"The ultimate surrender," Richard mused.  "You will love it."

I experienced a surge of the purest terror.  This would take away what little they had left me with.  I would no longer be able to see, nor could I call out if I needed to be released.  

"It’s the very best punishment," Richard observed.

"Why do I have to be punished?"  I asked softly, seizing on that word as if it had no rightful place in the exchange.

"Won’t you look upon it as punishment?"

"Should I?"

"Then don’t you look upon what we have done to you already as punishment?"

I thought for a moment, and then shook my head.  It wasn’t punishment at all.  It was...  I couldn’t for the life of me think what it was, but it certainly wasn’t punishment.  "I’m not being punished for something I’ve done, am I?" I asked logically.

"Then you take this as a perfectly natural thing to happen to you, Wendy?" Richard asked, his words almost exactly mirroring my own thoughts.

"I didn’t at first.  I hated it, and would have given anything for you not to do this to me...  But I did agree to it... in a sort of way," I reminded him gently.

"But now?"  And all the while, he continued fondling my naked breasts, whilst someone else stroked and cupped my buttocks with their unseen hands, sending wildly erotic messages the length and breath of my already painfully throbbing body.

I considered how best to put this into words.  "It’s all right now," I replied limply.

"Then you are as I said... a natural," Richard observed, sounding very pleased.

"Is that good?"  I wanted to know.

"It’s good for you at the moment," Richard chuckled, "for it means that you don’t mind this being done to you.  If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be enjoying this.  And you are enjoying it, aren’t you?"

I softly admitted that I was, and immediately felt a traitor to myself.  But what else could I do?  Richard had ordered me to be brutally honest.

"Then I’ll leave you for a while, instead of releasing you," he said, rising to his feet after giving my nipples a couple of sinfully pinching squeezes.

So I was left with both buttocks exposed, those unseen hands having thrust my panties complete aside, and my breasts completely out of my crossover top.  But, strangely enough, it was all right, for this was part of the surrender I had been coerced into.

Several times, they returned to me.  And each time, hope surged within me that they were going to release me whilst, at the same time, dreading their doing so.  I had never had my thoughts in such utter confusion!  By now, my limbs were completely gone from me.  I simply couldn’t feel them at all.  The initial pain in them, which for some reason, I’d welcomed and actually enjoyed, had slowly grown into a sort of good-natured glow.  And I couldn’t help wondering about the wave of disappointment that crept up on me every time I thought they were coming back to release me. 

I had initially dreaded the very idea of being tied up, but now that I was, I was accepting the experience so much that I was beginning to dread the thought of being released.  Was this usual, I wondered.  Or was I strange in some way?  And, oddly enough, I felt closer to these five boys than I had ever done to anyone before.  And Richard?  I felt I was very special to him, for he had led me to this undreamed of new experience.

Finally, when I began to think they’d forgotten all about me, they returned and stood looking down on me.

"Are you all right, Wendy?" Richard asked solicitously.

I nodded.  I had the feeling that he really cared about me, despite what he’d done to me.  It was as though he earnestly wanted me to enjoy this experience as much as they clearly were.

"Do you want to be released now?"

His question plunged me into abject confusion, for I honestly didn’t know whether I did or not.  I was now feeling completely at home with my present condition.

"We could always go to that party we were invited to,"  Richard suggested to the others,  "and leave her here until we return, late tonight... or the early hours of tomorrow morning, if the party turns out a ripper."

He was teasing me, I hoped.  But was he?  I didn’t think he was really.  A tiny frisson of delicious terror flitted through me, for if that was what they decided, then I would go along with it.  Not that I had any alternative.  It might make them even more pleased with me.

There was total silence as they waited for my reply. 

I knew I had to say something.  But what?  I truly dreaded the thought of being left all that time but, as incredible as it sounded, I had come accept my subservient lot, and would suffer being their captive as long as they decided.  I had thought initially that I would hate being restrained like this, but the boys’ pleasure in me made it bearable.  If they decided to leave me for several hours more, I wouldn’t complain.  I was their helpless victim; I would continue to play that role as long as they wanted me to.

"I think that might be rather too long," one of the other boys observed cautiously.  A disembodied voice.  "Perhaps we ought to release her now."

"I agree," Richard put in.  "This is her first time, after all.  We can always try for something really lengthy next time."

Very mixed emotions greeted that decision.  I had resolved to see this out to the bitter end, and now they were going to release me.  The comedown caused a hotchpotch of emotions to flood through me - relief that I was going to be free again, that this appalling constriction would soon be at an end, and fear that they were going to release me because I had disappointed them in some way and they had no further use for me.

They quickly untied me and, to my surprise, I discovered I still couldn’t move.  It was as though my limbs were locked in that constricted position.  Richard laughed and showed his friends how to quickly massage the life back into my arms and legs.  The feeling of their gently soothing hands on me was another lovely experience.  Soon, I was able to sit up, and then I was helped to stand.

Each of them gave me a brief hug, clasping me urgently to their firm masculine hardness, and I found myself responding by letting my body melt into their quick embrace, but my body demanded so much more.  Did they have any idea of the height of emotion they had brought about in my body, I wondered.  Did they have any notion how incredibly sexually charged they had made me?

One of them casually picked up the lengths of rope and started to coil them up.  I felt myself cringe and yearn at the same time.  It was a curious emotion.  I felt confused and embarrassed by my automatic response.

"I wonder..." Richard pondered, thoughtfully stroking his beard, whilst the others looked on hopefully, "Would you really come again, if asked?"

I considered my reply for a moment.  "I... er..." I stammered, my thoughts in such a confusion that I really didn’t know what to say.  I couldn’t even think straight at the moment.

I chewed my lower lip.  I was being pressured.  I didn’t like that.  And why would anyone want to go through what I’d just gone through again?  And possibly worse, by the sound of it.  And the picture of my being completely naked, and helpless, with these boys frankly appalled me.  I decided then and there that I would do the sensible thing and forcibly decline if Richard asked me again. 

Or would I?

End