Minutes passed. I was numb, inside to out. I couldn’t feel any emotion, nor pain. I couldn’t feel the brunt of the lust that I was once in. This f...eling of complete nothingness was addictive. I had to do it again and again and again. This high was all I wanted. Another few days passed. My high dragged on from day to day to day. How I managed to stay working and stay alive was puzzling. I faintly remembered the days that passed by at work where I would continually feign a little smile for my. I could feel the other girls almost squirming with uncomfortable recognition of their own experiences, and with silent but unmistakable arousal. She did not ask me any questions after the beginning of the class, presumably leaving me to listen to my fellow slave girls and absorb their lessons. By the end of the class, I was in awe of this quietly powerful woman, of her ability to make us explore the depths of our own submission, to confess our slavery not only explicitly but also with a level. More

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