When he was killed, she had felt that she’d never be able to love again. She still occasionally had torrid and bittersweet dreams about him. She had...decided a couple years ago that it was time to let go of the past…to move on and try to love again. She had wanted to find a man whose occupation wouldn’t interfere with them having more time together and didn’t make him face danger. She’d dated several rich, good-looking men that she’d met through her job at the fashion boutique. But they were all. I was wincing a little. He got to ten before he asked again “How many slut?”“Ten” I answered confidently.“And what do you say, slut?”“Thank you Danny” I whimpered.The next ten were harder and I was getting really uncomfortable, starting to get scared. I was squirming. He stopped to ask “How many?”“Twenty, thank you Danny”“Good. I don’t want you to move an inch. These next swats are going to be hard and if you move I swear I’ll start over, do you understand?”I groaned inwardly, my heart racing. More

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