Breakfast. Cinnamon rolls... coffee.The contrast between the pleasant, party like atmosphere of the observers, and my semi-naked sweaty and chained bo...dy hits me hard. I am nothing but amusement to these people. I have been reduced to a show, my pain is their enjoyment. The humiliation rolls over me like a wave. I am used to being looked at as a pretty girl. I know my body is in shape, though I am short, I have good breasts, long black hair, slim waist and hard legs from jogging. I look at this. "Ophelia," I say, breathing a sigh of relief before grabbing my phone outof my pocket and waving it in her surprised face. "You do know what oneof these things is, right?" It is a mobile telephone," Ophelia shrugs. "You use it to make calls." And send and receive texts," I grumble, before letting out a long sigh."Ophelia... I- I was really worried. You know that staying out all nightisn't exactly, you know, 'in character' for you?" I did nothing that you did not do when you were going out with. We got a table, ordered coffee, started talking. I asked her why did you call me up to say that you were a widow. She again said she wanted me know before meeting her. I asked her what had happened to her husband. She said he was sick and doctors could not detect the problem. And he expired suddenly. Then she suddenly started crying. I was trying to console her. I put a hand on her arms and consoled her. It was getting a little embarrassing too, as all people were looking at us. She realised. Greene had long since departed for places unknown after a particularly stressed period of spousal discord related to his having impregnated an office intern called "Dolly".Mrs. Greene had gotten quite adept at self-masturbation techniques in recent years and her oral utterances in the middle of the night kept her teenage daughter Sylvia awake in tearful disbelief and shame at her mother's lustful sessions.Poor little Sylvia was still a technical virgin even though she had only just recently.