I don't love the belt, but I crave the attention.A few light smacks, and my body melted back into the blankets.Yes, please. More, please. Now, please....ut John Brownstone's mind was on a single track, and I wasn't it. Not in that moment.Give me a minute.I rolled over on my back, spreading my knees and thighs. My fingers stroked my outer labia. I could smell my arousal, all from a few whacks with a belt. And the daringness of this moment. I kept quiet, knowing he'd eventually look. He turned. His. Do you think that might be what she meant, anyway?? Daddy left for thedialysis center again, but he said he would write you later. About the other thing you asked, Mars. It is just really hard to talkabout at all, Marsh. Because I don't feel like that any more at all. Butno, the scars aren't from something she did to me. But it wasn't just anoperation, but there was one. I did them, OK?But I didn't try to kill myself, Marsha. I promise, I promise. I wantedto live. See. It's all just real, real. More

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