"Thanks, Monica."
A few minutes later, Celestia glanced up just as Janice emerged from the left corridor with an ashen-looking young woman at her side, walking slowly. Celestia recognized the stunned expression, the sense of extreme vulnerability, the inability to determine if she had truly enjoyed herself.
This was clearly a first-timer, a "virgin" of sorts, who had just been initiated into this most unusual world. Celestia remembered her first time, recommended by a friend as are so many customers, although she had always had a penchant for the unusual, so her first time had been thoroughly enjoyable despite the continual subconscious current of fear.
"Just sit here as long as you need, Rachelle," Janice said softly. "In fact," she added, glancing over at Celestia, "would you like to speak with one of our regular customers? Would that help?"
It took a moment, but Rachelle slowly nodded, her eyes remaining fixated upon the floor in front of her feet as she sat nervously in a chair.
At that cue, Celestia stood and moved toward the young "virgin," sitting beside her, taking her hand. Janice smiled at the regular customer briefly and then retreated, leaving the two customers effectively alone.
Celestia simply held Rachelle's hand for a few minutes, neither saying anything. During that time, the experienced customer remembered her first experience here: the terror felt as her clothes were shredded from her body even as she tried to crawl away, the blurred vision caused by the copious tears, the rawness of her throat from the perpetual screams, the slimy residue which coated and filled her vulnerable body...
"How often do you come here?" Rachelle finally asked, apparently finding her voice at last.
"About once a week," Celestia replied. "Typically on Thursdays, as that is the day I have the most time to myself."
