His left hand is keeping me against the wall and his right hand is still roughly grasping my hair, pulling my head back. He moves his left hand around...to my front, allowing me to move a little away from the wall. He pulls at the buttons of my top, struggling to find my breasts through the fabric. Familiar hands graze my nipples and I internally scream. I start to relax into him. Falling against him, melting at his touch, putty in his hands. He pulls my head to the side, kissing my exposed neck.. After a while they knew a great deal, and what they didn’t they intended to find out from you personally.“Mrs Smith” can you hear me? A vaguely familiar voice asks, “Mrs Smith” you feel someone shaking your arm, slowly you stir, your body feels like a ton weight, you vision blurred and hazy, “Mrs Smith” your eyes begin to focus on your surroundings as you try to sit up, but can’t “Mrs Smith” the insistent voice continues, your confused and disorientated “Mrs Smith “you recognise the voice as. More

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