She knew what it meant in theory, but it was just something that happened to other people. A thirty-year old memory bubbled up; her father, drunk, ang...y, shouting, wielding a golf club and swinging it at her mother. Her mother screaming, the sounds of bones cracking, the sight of skin splitting and bruising. The smell of alcohol, blood, sweat, and piss. But as he turned the club on her, his own child and swung it, it was nothing. Metal hit skin and bounced off easily. It just pushed her onto. Blank.“Now we talk,” she purred contentedly. She lay spooned behind me, her arms around me, her phallus impaled as deeply into me as it would go. “Correction; I talk, you listen. I know you were there, in the bathroom. Brock may have been oblivious to the closed stall door behind him, but I was not. I recognized your shoes under the partition. Now you know all the dirty details about us; Brock and me. As much as it hurt you, and I know it did, I am glad it is out in the open at last. The guilt. More

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