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"Not what I meant," I replied getting more than a little miffed."Listen you two, I am sending you together, because I don't think I have to worry about any extracurricular activities. Do I need to be concerned?" he asked."God no," I said."Only if there is a disaster and she is the only female, and I'm the only male left on earth," Simpson said."Only then, if no vibrators survive," I said it angrily. Just so I could have the last word."So go home and pack. You need to leave in time to get there. “Keep your knees straight. Bend forward at your waist until your elbows rest on the mattress. Place your head down between your arms. Relax and trust me.”Leaning forward, her forearms on the bed, Alysia placed her face between her hands, all the while keeping her eyes tightly closed.“Spread your legs apart.”Alysia followed the request and waited. The only movement was a chill that ran through her body. Part of her was screaming: “Open your eyes!” Another part was pleading: “Be still. Don’t ruin. He shook her hand firmly, smiling evenly, and showed no reaction. ‘Hi, relax. Come on in.’ His eyes traced her neckline, her curves, and settled on her tightly bound breasts. Then back to her eyes. Hey, I saw that, she thought. ‘Please, get comfortable.’ ‘Thanks. I’ll try.’ His office was furnished in early Sigmund Freud. The classic therapist couch (I’ve never seen one of those for real, she thought). Dark wood. Comfortable rug. Broad desk with a single file open. Large chair for him. Sit. After a whispered conference near the cave entrance, the drummers increased the tempo a little, their sweaty bodies swaying in the dim light, and the attendants threw a little more weed on the fires. The smoky taste in the air became stronger, and then the girls walked toward me, in single file, their hands carrying various items. As they approached, the talking stopped, and everyone, except for the drummers, stood or sat quietly, waiting and watching.The Headwoman came up to me now, and spoke.
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