I feel sick, but cant move. He strides back over to me leaning over me and smirks, now when you go to sleep youll smell me on your pillow. He says, no... get dressed whore! I flinch at his softly spoken, but harsh words. I know from my parents arguments that whore is a bad word. My Dad calls my Mum this when hes angry. I get up from the floor and try to move quickly, but Im in lots of pain, and movement is very difficult. I look up at him with confused, and questioning eyes. Dont look at me. It's been so long." She stirred the pan. "Thank you Bob, thank you."I cupped her breasts, and gently rolled her nipples with my thumbs."Mmmm." She squirmed."Its so good, So good." Squirm. Deep breath. "No, stop, Please stop."Her tone of voice had changed. What had I done wrong?"What's wrong?" Absolutely nothing, lovey, but I need to concentrate on this," She tapped the pan with her spoon. "And I was losing it."Business-like now, she told me to fill the kettle. I watched her. I watched her hair.. More

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