. Good girl,” He orders.I can’t stop myself from gasping, “Fuck.”I sense him standing at the end of my bed, arms crossed, revering my nakednes.... I feel the cold as ice stare from his eyes burning my flesh. The cool night air tumbles over my hot thighs and dripping folds when I spread my legs wide open for Him. Another small contraction grips when he tells me I'm a good girl. His good girl.“Arms over your head, crossed at the wrists,” He orders.Raising my arms above my head and crossing my. Tomorrow’s plan…, well, he’d wait until tomorrow and see what he felt like doing. It was on the fifth of January that he found the deer kill, or rather, the depression and bloodstain in the snow where someone had gutted the deer. He also found snowshoe imprints and the twin streaks left by sled runners. There were animal tracks all around, probably from scavengers jousting for the entrails from the carcass. Dave had killed a couple of deer so far, but none in this area, and anyway, the snowshoe. More

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