Molly lived in a house, not an apartment, but it was in no way difficult to find skimpy clothes. She had a wide variety of thongs, short shorts, short skirts, tube tops, skimpy bras, bikinis, high heels, sneakers, sandals and so on and so forth.

Molly lay on the cot as the men gently helped her down. It would actually be rather hard to be especially aroused by her. For one thing, the level of gunk and filth on her body had surpassed the kinky and reached the level of simply gross. For another, there was just something about her stair and the frigid, traumatized state of shock she was in. She wasn't angry or humiliated or anything else. She was just there and there was just nothing sexual about her. That was the best way to put it. For the moment, her sexuality had been driven so deep it might as well have been killed.