My father struck out at him, knocking him into my desk, spilling papers everywhere. ‘She’s not going anywhere.’ ‘Please go,’ I whispered. �...He’ll kill you.’ Danny hesitated, his hand still reaching for me. My father lifted me by my hair, pulling me off the bed. I clenched my teeth, willing myself not to scream and getting my knees under me to lessen the pull on my scalp. ‘What are you waiting around for? Is this what you want to see?’ my father asked, holding me up like a prize, my blouse gaping. She probably leaves it here for her daily jog, not bothering to wash it after every run. The soft inner lining where her nipples rub have the least scent, but the straps that wrap around her under her arms have a strong smell, one that fills my nostrils. My cock is straining and pulsing and I feel lightheaded, lost in lust for her. The socks are neatly rolled, undoubtedly fresh out of the laundry, and when I bring the crotch of the lace panties to my nose, I can smell the perfume of laundry. More

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