Just as he had promised himself, Monty sat in the room with the girl and did nothing else. And yet anxiety lingered in their hearts, and their minds raced through what was implied or, rather, expected of them. The deflowering of a virgin, a delicate matter indeed and having seen how women changed after their first time many times at the Maze, the youngster preferred not to do anything to the girl after all.
Looking at her while sitting at the edge of the bed, his mind wandered back to the Maze some more and as he reminded himself of the only two personalities such women had left once they were deflowered in that den of decadence. A victim or a sex craving whore, surprisingly there was no in-between. Either they fell in love with their first man and were on fast track to a heartbreak or they were shattered from the inside and out and would hole up in a corner until the Mistress decided to kick their butts into action.
