Maybe that was what drew Amanda to me. Maybe if it was a younger version of her captor, her abuse would be less detestable… Maybe her sweet smiles t... me were a way of saying ‘yes, with you it would be fine.’ Or at least that was the way my fucked up mind worked things out, trying to find an excuse for the way I wanted to ravish that girl so badly. In amidst the funeral, the only thing I could do was daydream about owning her, about keeping her at that house serving me, about making her some. So he handed over the soap, and made sure he splashed her in the process. She just grinned, splashed him back, and then began washing his clothes.He watched her for a while. Her hair was long and dark, held back into a pony tail with a couple of thin pieces of hide. Her body was slim and the colour of a good tan, though her arms and face were a shade darker. Her breasts were small and firm, they didn't move much as she was vigorously washing his shirt. Her nipples were a darker brown, and quite. More

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