“Yeah? Sorry? So you should be, I was there when you needed me, me, not Daddy!” a nasty smirk crossed his mouth. “You need to remember that, me!...When they threw you out, I took you in, and it was me who was willing to bring up your bastard brat...”“Stop it!” she screamed. “Don’t you dare.”“Don’t dare? Don’t I dare? Who, the hell, do you think you are talking to? Madame? Was it my fault the little snotty brat ...”Faster than he, thought imaginable Sandy was on her feet, the bread knife in her. It's a very enjoyable compatibility. It connects us intellectually in a way that is very satisfying emotionally. I deserve this punishment. I just didn't think Dan would be so fucking good at this. I have a way out, actually two ways out, but I won't use either of them. Neither would be worse than this, but I'm enjoying this too much. I'm actually reveling in this odd combination of physical, mental, and emotional torture. But I have started this story at the wrong point. During the week since. More

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