Once in the car, Bob says that we are going back to my house, "you want to get cleaned up don't you?"
"Yes." I'm so ashamed of what just happened. Ashamed that I enjoyed what I was forced to do. At least I didn't have an orgasm. Back at the house, Bob asks where my money is. "It's in my purse."
Bob tells me to get upstairs and get cleaned up, then change clothes. "Put something on like you're going out with your husband, maybe something he bought you....Then when John comes back, I think we make another movie...."
I get upstairs and start the water in the shower as I start to undress. I look at the phone on the nightstand. Should I call the police? My husband? A friend? What will happen if I do. Bob and John will show the video, showing that I'm just a cheap slut that will fuck anyone. They will tell them that I led them on. Who will they believe? Me or them? But, what about my reputation? Word will get around about the video; that realtor will testify at the trial; everyone will think I'm a slut. Will Bill leave me? My children will be ridiculed at school. Think, think, think. I'll get my shower, while I think about it.
I'd better pull out some clothes to wear. I pull out a "little black dress", a black cocktail dress that comes to a couple of inches above my knees, black pushup bra, thong, tan pantyhose, black 3 inch heels.
As I soap myself up in the shower, I think about what will happen if I call.
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