This time, though, Dad didn't leave immediately. Instead, he held my face in his hands. The irony was in the gentleness of his action, in its polar di...ference from his aggression just a few seconds earlier. With the deed done and over, reason regained its footing. I managed to ask, "Why, Daddy, why?"Before replying, Daddy pressed his fingers into my cheeks, painfully keeping my mouth open, leaving me squirming. "You said you understood," he whispered to my face. "Understand this... I need this.. It was a posh apartment near Bond Street, with an entry phone. I pressed the button, and was greeted by a man's voice, with an American accent, asking me to come to the third floor.When I emerged from the lift, I was met by a muscular black man (the American), who ushered me along a corridor and into a huge apartment, where lo and behold, there stood Sonny and Lynda, with another attractive brunette, whom I found out was Frances. Lynda and Sonny were both wearing bathrobes, and I asked what the. More

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