"Fuck, fuck, I'm dead," she said through gritted teeth. She allowed herself a brief sob to escape her lips before shaking her head and regaining her ...omposure. She heard the car door open and the sound of a voice coming through the wall, loud but not shouting. "Come on, Andrew, here we go." Andrew? My dad? Molly risked a peak through the window next to the front door, and saw a man with an arm around her father's waist, holding him up as he staggered away from the car. She frowned to. My body bares the marks of the final flurry of aggressive passion when you took control of me. There’s a deep red mark around my upper thigh from where you tried to rip my panties. My panties resisted you and dug into my skin before finally giving way and tearing. Dark chocolate is on my face and hands, in my hair and smeared on my body. The bed sheets, pillows and blankets are in a tangled mess on the floor. The silk scarves that I used to bind your ankles and wrists are either torn or lost. More

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