Gathered in the middle of the table was the tableau of lunch. Half a loaf of sliced white bread, the twist-tie at the neck of its bag coyly undone, th... first few slices fallen flat in invitation. Jars of peanut butter and jam and mayonnaise and mustard, one knife on the table, a package of bologna with the plastic back peeled back and half the slices already missing. Towering above the whole was a virgin bag of a particular off- brand of potato chips we'd all spent our childhoods begging her to. I held the pout for one more second.Then turned to crawl up the stairs. I put my hand on the first runner, the crystal cool beneath my grip.“Cernere’s black cunt,” growled the guard.Metal clanked against crystal. Heavy footsteps rushed across the room. Strong hands seized me. I gasped in delight, not fighting as the guard hauled me to my feet. He spun me and pressed me against the crystalline walls, my nipples rubbing on the cool surface, my cheek pressed against it.“Teasing slut!” groaned the. More

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