She couldn’t believe she was drinking the whole thing. The first sip had tasted, well, awful. And yet, she found herself taking another swig. Just a little one. Then a bit more. By the end, she was letting the liquid simply pour from the upturned glass, into her mouth, over her lips, on to her breasts. It didn’t matter. He’d told her to down it, and so that’s what she’d done. She looked at him, imploringly, desperate to know what he’d have her do next…