I suppose you should hear the story from her.”Ivy told her story crying through much of it. She often paused and buried her head in my chest. The en...ire time she was pressed up against me with a vice grip on my arm like she was afraid somebody was going to take her from me. The three girls listened intently. They were both horrified and amazed by the story.“That is a good girl, Ivy. Daddy is proud of you. Ladies, do you have any questions for her?”They were all too stunned by the story they. The pain was nothing compared to the pain of sadness that captured her heart and soul.This pain was a constant reminder of what she had been robbed off, what those monsters had done to her. It had been around three years since she divorced her husband. The physical pain provided some balance to the pain of her heart.She could smell herself, the scent of her womanhood, the scent of her robbed motherhood. The scent of pent up milk in her breasts, now spilling out. She had been effusing for quite. More

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