"At her home, Sharon put Mom downstairs, and then told me to follow her. "I'm putting you in the upstairs room at the end of the hall. It has an almost private bath and a nice long bed. I stretched an Internet connection to the little desk for your laptop." I remember this room. I like it up here with more privacy." My reasoning exactly," she said with a grin, "Come down for dinner when you freshen up." She walked away leaving no doubt that her body had matured and that she could carry herself well.We all helped and put together a nice dinner with fish on skewers served on wild rice with steamed broccoli. After dinner, I was sad, but not hurting as much as the other three. Later, as Mom and Aunt Grace, Uncle Hurley's much younger wife, took charge of finishing up the dinner dishes and putting the house to bed, I was anxious to get online. I excused myself and went right to my room to play this damn addictive game where I had been doing well all week.Talk about a waste of time!. I just couldn’t believe it. He stared at me for a moment longer and then he just reached down and fucking slugged me hard, right on the side of the face. It hurt like hell. He pulled back his hand to hit again, and I thought, shit, what the hell. What the fucking hell ever. I dropped off the couch to my knees, and whispered, “Yes, master,” like he had told me too. I’m no dummy.“Thank you,” he said. He walked backwards, his eyes never leaving mine. He took some kind of silver chains out of a drawer and approached me. I saw then they were handcuffs, linked with a chain.“Hold your hands out,” he said, and I just stared at him. He pulled his hand back again like he was gonna hit me, and I said, “Okay, okay,” and stuck my hands out. He snapped the handcuffs on them and told me to sit. I did, and he put them on my feet. I felt stupid, then, for letting him do it. I knew I was fucked and fucked bad, at that moment.“I’ll let you cool off in your room a while. Then we’ll have dinner,” he said.
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