Hello, my name is Beth.

I am writing this account to help me sort out my feelings about a very strange experience I had last night. Perhaps I'll show it to my boyfriend when I'm finished.

First, I'll describe myself.

I am a college student at a small midwestern university, majoring in English. I am 22 years old. I am very petite. I think of myself as somewhat average looking, but I'm not very good at describing my looks, so I'll just tell you that some of my friends have called me "a girl- next-door type", "real", "not a fashion model - more like a princess in disguise".

I think my forehead is too high, my breasts are a bit asymmetrical, and I have a few awkwardly placed freckles, but none of my boyfriends (I've had three) has ever complained.

Last night, it seemed I "awoke" in a very strange position. My body was folded up into some type of "stocks"; essentially a wooden board with padded holes for my neck, wrists, and ankles. This board was hanging by chains from a steel frame that was being wheeled quickly down the hallway of my dorm by two young men whom I did not know.

I was naked.

No, not entirely; as I carefully tried to turn my head to the right, I could see, on the other side of my hand, that I was wearing a white pump with a four inch heel. I did not recognize it. Since it was so difficult to turn my head, I just assumed that my left foot was similarly shod.

I must have been a bizarre sight as I swung to and fro, much like an IV bottle on a hospital gurney.

The breeze caused by our passage stiffened my nipples and blew over my lips down below.

At about this time, sleep left me completely. I think I had thought this was merely a naughty dream I was having until then. As my head cleared, I began to yell. "Help! Help!!" I cried.

One of the men gave me an incredibly hard slap on my bare ass, and growled: "Shut up, bitch!" He was clearly worried that someone would hear me. In my pain and shock, I remained silent.

At this point we came to the door of what I recognized as the lounge on my floor of the dorm. There was only one person there, and I did not recognize him. He was not handsome, but not too bad-looking. I decided that I "would". I had found from conversations with my friends that I was not alone in this habit; whenever I met a new man, I would immediately decide whether I would or would not allow him to make love to me. This does not mean that I WILL go to bed with him, but it does sort of determine what types of relationships I can have with that guy. I imagine men do much the same thing when they meet a woman.

The two men shut the door of the lounge, unhooked the board from the chains, and placed me on the couch, next to the other man. They had to sort of prop me up against the cushions. My position would have been ridiculous, if I hadn't been so frightened; back against the cushions, head, hands, and feet in the air, my sex completely exposed to the air, and to their eyes. If I was not so limber (I had been doing aerobics and stretching, off and on, for the last couple of years), I would not be able to get into this postion at all. As it was, I was able to keep my head, hands, and feet all pretty much lined up, without too much discomfort. I wondered how long I would have to stay this way, though.

With a final hungry look at my exposed sex, the two men left. I did not know what to say or do. I wanted to beg him to free me, to ask him what was going on. I wanted to break down into tears of embarrassment, but I did not yet dare to do any of these things.

What happened next was really bizarre. He introduced himself as Pat, and shook my hand. I found my hand shaking his automatically, although my wrist motions were limited by the stocks. When I didn't respond further, he asked my name. "Beth," I said in a tiny voice. Then he asked me if I wanted to watch tv. I nodded my head dumbly.

For the next hour, we watched television. No one disturbed us. The tv's volume was turned down low; I didn't pay much attention to the program, although it was a PBS nature documentary, and as an animal lover, I would normally have been quite interested.

Pat watched it a little, and read a magazine; I tried to sneak a looks at him whenever he was reading. He was fully dressed; I was naked. It didn't seem at all fair...

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