That was it. Dr. Rogers. No - Mister Rogers, I reminded myself. Specialists didn't like being referred to as Doctor.I felt my pulse quicken. Fucking q...acks; I'd had enough of them in the last six days; I'd been poked, prodded and even had a rectal thermometer up my jacksie. I was not in a good mood.Mr. Rogers gently lowered my penis and nodded sagely at my crotch, as if my cock had just uttered some nugget of medical wisdom that only he was privy to."Whoever did the operation in Vietnam did. "He will go on scourging you like he is at all times fond of doing. There is a knife beneath your bed. He wanted to use it on you—as a sex toy that was going to jab into your anus. Not the blade, but the handle. Those games are typically dangerous, Mila; you know that."She was right. Yes; that angel who regularly spoke through the voice of a woman. "I can't kill him. God said I must not commit murder." There is no God. If He was there, would he mind to see you suffering and weeping like this?. More

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