“In the olden days, a church was a sanctuary,” I said quietly. “People could go into a church and nobody was allowed to chase them in there – ...ot the police, not the army, nobody.”“Are you claiming sanctuary?” asked Dan quietly.“Do I need to?” I asked Dad.Dad didn’t respond. He sat silently next to me and kept looking toward the front of the church.“Promise me, Princess,” whispered Dan. “Promise me you’ll talk to Dad. No more running away.”I sighed and rolled my eyes. Like I had a choice –. He merely smiled. They must have some muscles to control it because with no hands he found my opening and battered at it, the head of his prick demanding entrance. He pointed at one of his followers. "Grease us."The other one smiled. I felt a hand on my pudenda, touching me. I squirmed harder, but they held me fast, and as the hand pressed over my mound it left a streak of some thick, greasy substance. Then the leader was back, his prick still hard as ever. I felt the slick grease helping him,. More

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