.. please..." I try whining butit doesn't seem to do any good.I see a serious look on her face. "You said you don't want to go in the poolso I don't w...nt any more accidents. So enough is enough, no more whining orI'll get you a bottle to drink like the baby you're acting like." Okay momma no bottle please." I see something pink in mom's hands as I feelit sliding up my legs and then mom slides my arms into it.Mom is dressing me into something pink. I look down. "Momma I can't wearthis, isn't. That little photographer’s trick sent chills up her spine and made her wet. As if to prove to me that she was telling the truth, Carol went to her bedroom, retrieved a photo album, and showed me the black and white pictures that had been taken at that first session. The only thing different was Carol’s hair, which, at that time, was much shorter. Even in her late teens and early twenties, Carol had the look that had caught my attention right from the beginning: pretty and cute, but also hot and. Everything was black, or gray, or something. But eventually I woke, this time to a world I'd as soon have ignored. There was no pain, but much of my body seemed numb. No, not numb, really, but it's like I was feeling my body through a fog. That doesn't make sense either, but it's the best I can describe.I opened my eyes to see a fuzzy-looking room. I was lying flat on my back, in a bed, an odd-table to my side. *Oh, no.* I knew this scene, I was back in a hospital. *Why?* What could have-- and. The servants behind on either side press her along; her shoulders brushing against and through the crowd of men as more then a few intentionally make contact with her naked body, especially her unprotected breasts and hips. Keeping her head lowered, staring toward the floor, she senses somewhat of a relief as she presses past the crowd, approaches an elevator, the door open. Forced to face toward the rear as a handful of men step forward making room, the doors closes as the elevator.
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