She lurched forward and moaned into the gag.As they reached the front door, Brittany was able to make out the words on the welcome mat:Welcome toThe H...thaways?Get in there, girl!? Her kidnapper growled, tossing open the door.As Brittany stepped into the pitch-black house, Mr. Hathaway grabbed the nape of her neck, his fingers firm and calloused. He kicked the door shut behind them and led Brittany into the darkness, maneuvering her around furniture and through doorways.Mr. Hathaway stopped. Why was she so immaculate? Why was she so clean? There was not a spot on her, not a single fleck of semen, not a hair out of place -- at least, as far as I could tell, since her head was hidden under a shroud. A fucking shroud?? What was this, the sixteenth century? Who wears a shroud to a wedding? And why was no-one getting up to use her? Why was she allowed to walk towards the altar completely unspoiled? It wasn't respect for the sanctity of marriage -- there was fucking going on in the. More

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