"Your luggage is there," Max said, kicking the door shut and speaking to her through a small wired opening at the top of the door. "You'll find your uniform in the locker."

Cindy looked around. Next to the small narrow iron-posted bed was a green metal locker, the door shiny and newly painted. A chair was the only, other furniture, in the otherwise sterile room. She had seen more warmly furnished rooms in pictures of Nazi concentration camps.

"Doc Endicott'll come down around here in about an hour for your first interview," Jack said, leering at her.

"Yeah, and don't forget. You ain't gonna say nothin' about what happened to you in the elevator, right?"

Cindy nodded her head up and down, willing to agree to anything to be alone.

"Good, baby, good. I think we're gonna have us one hell of a time… until you're cured."

Both men broke out laughing wildly at the last pronouncement, walking quickly away from her room. Cindy turned, letting the hot tears flow readily now. Raped and violated in the mouth by… oh, the thought of it now only made her sick with shame!

"Oh, my God, my God, what have I done?" she whimpered, throwing herself over the narrow bed and burying her flushed face in the pillow. Cindy moved her knees together, feeling the slippery slide of her cuntlips against one another. It was a horrid reminder of what she'd done, of how she had let those men fuck her.

Two hours passed quickly. Dr. Endicott arrived as Max had predicted, as cold as ever, telling her sharply to get dressed, then showing her the various facilities nearby – washroom, shower area, dining hall down the way.

"Of course, everything here is regulated," Dr. Endicott said, stopping in front of her office door. Cindy felt so vulnerable once more, just as she'd felt when Max and Jack closed the elevator door behind her. "Is everything all right?"