He’d just lay there and drink, sulking and pining over Mom. Many nights I’d hear him crying, but usually, that was after he was nine beers in and ...runk. I often just stayed in my room. I’d learned my lesson. One night, he was making funny noises, and I thought he might’ve been choking.He was choking, alright. He was choking the chicken. He had a pair of Mom’s panties that I guess she had left in the laundry basket, wrapped around his dick as was pumping it up and down with his fist. He didn’t. He left your side only a short while ago." My memory is missing," I stammered. "Tell me, where am I and what am I doing here?" The pain was starting to relax a bit but I still couldn't open my eyes without that sharp stabbing pain. For now, I would keep them closed."Because I am your friend, I will tell you. But you must NOT mention to anyone you do not remember things. They will send you home immediately, if they find out."There was a conspiratorial tone in the voice, and I could tell that. More

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