He felt his neither regions fill with blood, but he seemed unable to move. That was, until now. Her silken fingers retreated. ?Get up and move before the altar?, she commanded with alarming harshness. He fell on his knees next to the altar table, irritated, eyes dancing around and fixing on the bronze feet of the life-size statue of his Goddess. This was terrible, horrifying. What had excited her anger this time, he wondered. He pressed his eyes together as he forced himself into this submissive position. She needed no ropes or chains to bind him?He felt the sharp sensation of her dagger-like teeth as they mercilessly, yet gracefully sank into his neck. Insufferable pain. Then it lessened. He had experienced this a hundred times. But he would never get used to this condition?he felt the erotic foreboding of coming limpness, the menace of a growing weekness of his muscles and heart?If he felt pain now, he didn’t utter a sound. Not a whisper? He remembered something, almost like a. Get up and go and stand in that corner, facing the wall. Do not touch your bottom. Is that understood young man?” She watched as her son turned his head to look at her.“Yes Mum. I’m sorry Mum.” He sobbed.“Hands on your head while you’re in the corner, Nicholas.” She smiled as her son struggled to get to his feet.Nick Wilson stood up and looked down at his sister who had a smile wide across her face. He then looked at his mother who was pointing with her left hand to the corner. He wiped the tears from his eyes and quickly walked over to the corner, faced the wall and placed his hands on his head as he had been instructed.Behind him, his sister took the damp towel from her knee and stood up. She placed the clothes brush back on the coffee table and followed her mum into the kitchen. Katherine Wilson boiled the kettle and began making a cup of coffee for them both.“Thank you, sweetie. I don’t think I’ll have any more issues with your brother for a while after that.” She pulled two mugs.
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