“Was it good? Was it good when Carlo fucked you? Do youlike it when he fucks you? Do you want Carlo to fuck youagain? Do you?”There is a t...robbing in my ears, as if I can hear theblood racing through my veins. My pelvis is movingagainst her hand and fingers, wantonly, whorishly. “Yes,” I say, knowing instinctively that the words arewhat my daughter is craving now. “I loved it when yourhusband fucked me. I loved the way Carlo fucked me. Iwant him to fuck me again,. Collecting her courage, she pulled hard on the line to get the scissors over the nipple chain. In a few instant she would be able to touch them, to cut her hands free and then to release her throat. That last pull was the worst of all. With her head bent backwards she could not see the scissors now but she felt the terrible pinching and stretching. She kept pulling. She had to get the scissors over the chain. She heard the metal tool touch the chain, coiling more line in her moist palm she. More

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