******* I ate my lasagna (which had turned out OK) while deep in thought. I cleaned up and washed my dishes, still thinking. I showered and got in be..., never ceasing to turn over every angle in my head. I fell asleep still asking questions. Scott had left me a message inviting me to dinner at his place the next night, I forgot to respond. The next day, I was distracted at work. I had gone in on a Saturday to work some overtime, but I worried I was being noticeably unproductive. I got home and. I shiver and tremble as the memories of the unspeakable things they had done to me come back - Their cold hands and fingers touching my body everywhere in search for the mark. As they don?t find anything to prove my guilt they had started to hurt me for a confession. They stab needles in my birthmarks, beat me with sticks and the whip, followed by the torment on the rack, tearing and stretching my fragile body until I pass out from the pain. The chair with its sharp metal spikes, the screws. He did not let her follow that thought, did not allow her to gather her mind. Instead, he scrambled it quite effectively as his hot mouth closed over her right breast. It soothed an ache that had bloomed, stroked it away and fanned a fire in her blood, a fire ignited by his kiss. She loved the almost painful sensation of his mouth sucking in her nipple, of his tongue following the pull with soothing laps. Her hand came to play in his hair, to hold him closer, or simply to answer the. Clutching the flyer in my hand, my throat dries up and I can feel my heart beating fast, I find it just enough to keep it together as I say hello and say “you look amazing – great show” she replies “thank you” “sound and light was perfect” this calms me a little. Then a shout from across the room “Olivia darling” “oh please excuse me I must do the rounds so many people to see” “by the way what’s your name?” I gulp and say “I’m William” “pleased to meet you William I’m Olivia” as she walks off.
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