Phillips said, turning to me, "please take a seat in my office and I'll be right back."I didn't even reply. I just went in and sat down. In one corner...of his office were seven crates containing the clothing belonging to the other victims. There was an empty crate sitting there and I swear it was taunting me."Just strip off," it said. "You know you're going to. You're fucked and you know it."I couldn't argue, but I still sat there, fully-clothed, until Mr. Phillips returned."Good morning, Miss. ‘Fuck,’ she muttered under her breath when she saw the look in his eyes. ‘He’s gonna eat me alive.’ The clacking of her heals sounded like the mechanism in one of those slide projectorcarousels back in high school. With each step she saw a different reality: herself as Jenny, the hateful manipulator, herself as a child trying to decipher her father’s mood, desperate to earn his attention, herself as Philip’s sex slave, breaking out of her cocoon with each strike of the whip. It was the last. More

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