Perhaps, right now, she should hurl herself against the fence. No, she would never do that. She resolved that she must never do that.There was a concrete pad with two vertical poles with cables and shackles. Guards put shackles on her wrists and ankles and tightened the cables attached to the shackles until she was suspended, her body an X, between the uprights. The strain on her arms was almost unbearable, and she was humiliated to see some of the male guards taking pictures of her. Someone with a hose directed a stream of water over her. At first, she was thankful to have the filth, her own excrement, washed off her, but then she began to be really chilled, cold water combined with cold wind. One guard, a short guy with acne, probably nor older than she, took a hand-pump sprayer and soaked her hair, on her head and below, with some smelly chemical. Iman had to squeeze her eyes shut, as it dribbled down her forehead. In seconds, she felt the burning sensation of the chemical on her. At one point I got up and opened the window slightly, leaving the curtain slightly ajar, so some light could get in.At that point in time I assumed both my niece and nephew were sleeping, as it was early morning, and I returned to the couch and lay down, covering myself with the duvet, and dozed off.Later on I awoke again, I was on my side with my hair covering my face, facing into the room, when I noticed my nephew engaged in masturbation, illuminated by the early morning light, and I of course, in the shadows as I lay watching him.He was ten years my junior and as I studied his body, still developing I felt an unmistakable urge creep across abdomen and down between my legs.My nipples hardened and as my fingers deftly touched one, it felt as if someone had touched it with an electric wire, I was pulsing and getting very wet between my legs.He had fully exposed himself, masturbating freely, his penis in full view and his testes, though small and tight, were open for me to admire.I.
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