I want more than a pistol...”“You do have a point.”We swapped places in the truck. She headed towards the hill. I got on the phone.Ring. “Texa...s Precious Metals, may I help you?” in a sweet Texas drawl.“James Harris. Could I speak with Mister Bowman?”“Yessir. I will connect you.” I could almost see her smile.The phone clicked. “Jayyyy. You got my mail?”“Sure did, Randy. You gonna be there tomorrow afternoon?”“Sure. Why?”“We’re coming for a visit.”“I could just do a wire transfer, Jay.”“We have a. Is something wrong at home?"She instinctively jerked her knees together. The funny part was that I was certain she wasn't reacting out of any fear of my intentions – I'd touched or patted her leg many times on the ride home in a seemingly innocent way. No, she was ashamed of her panty-less condition, and was afraid I'd find out about it!"No, everything's fine." She slowly calmed. I felt the muscles in her leg relax, and her knees parted slightly. We pulled up to a stop sign, and I turned to. Finally, he slowly and gently unhooks the clasp of her bra and takes it under her top from her body. Then he silently leaves the compartment.New panic in her. The blood shoots through her head. She bites on her gag. Should she scream? Who will find her? What would someone do with her then, the way she stands here, bound with stretched arms, exposed?She stands there for minutes. Infinitely long minutes. She tries to grab the luggage rack in order to hold on better. After a short while, the train. It had all come back to me in a sickening flash. Did you read 'Becky's Awakening'? When I caught her in bed with Fran, we all had a talk. I told her that I knew Janet, that the woman who had first seduced her, the Cheerleader coach, was a lesbian, because her ex-husband worked with me and had told me that while he was trying to get into my pants. When Becky asked if he had succeeded, I had told her that whenever I needed relief, I met one of the women after work. Becky had replied that she was.