Chapter Three: Captive"I've met a hucow before," George offers lightly when the silence drags on and I fail to answer.
I can feel his eyes on me but he isn't leering. If anything, his gaze is curious, almost contemplative. I wonder what sort of hucows he's met before.
It's almost... nice. The guys at my high school were worst when they found out what I am. They stare at my breasts all the time, as if staring hard enough could summon the milk from my n*****s.
"Where?" Carter asks. "Do I know her? Is she someone we've worked with? I would've been able to smell it, wouldn't I? She smells delectable."
"You don't know her," George answers.
Carter barks a laugh. "Must be one of those places that specialize in the kinky s**t you're into, eh?"
George shrugs, not taking insult. "Must be," he
