We’re heading for Los Angeles. That means you’re not a slave any more.”She remains silent. Maybe she doesn’t know what to say. Maybe she’s s...ill unsure about her situation. I need to break the ice a little.“What’s your real name?”“Laura.”Lela, Laura ... why had anyone bothered to change her name in the first place when they are that similar? Just because he could, I suppose. Maybe this is some kind of power demonstration or a tradition. I realize that I have no idea about the practical side of. I needed more, and finally, I broke. That’s what brought me into a brightly lit hallway in front of room # 212, a guy whose name I couldn’t even recall groping my breasts through my thin cotton cami top. Not that I blamed him, seeing that my hard nipples had been on display since he’d sat down.There wasn’t much small talk at the door. I think he’d realized on the ride over that I wasn’t interested in polite conversation. I had mentioned that if he didn’t have condoms we’d have to stop at a. More

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