But it has no place being a part of what Fancy and me are right now, today. And until that changes, maybe it's me that isn't ready, and not her. That ...as my original argument, and I think it's still valid. Am I so wrong to feel like that?"I waited for an answer as my daughter seemed to be mulling my stance around inside her. If she needed or wanted the space and time to sort things out in her head, I was quite willing to wait for as long as it took her."Are you two going to scream all morning,. Then he was free to roam the late afternoon streets, hunting for lone females to watch and approach. Did he picture himself as pathetic? ... Did he care? ... No, not really. He was an alumnus of the I dont give a fuck school, majoring in do whatever pleases you, with a minor in whatever works. He had no further ambitions beyond working his shifts as a garbage man, and working the streets as a perv in his spare time afterwards.It was a weekday afternoon in the fall, as grey and sticky as it can. The shiny black head of a dracoling stretched up, and it screeched loudly in indignation. It blinked at Ricky with its coal back eyes, and he felt the bond form. Ricky tipped the egg on its side and let the baby wiggle and kick its way clear of the shell. Once free, it lay in his lap gasping, as it learnt to breathe air.“Hetty, run and get some camla meat, please, short, thin slices work best at this stage,” Ricky said calmly.Hetty didn’t hesitate, and she shot off her chair to run to the. And I raped her throat again, hammering at it hard and fast once more, and as she started to fall unconscious again, I pulled out and brought her to breathe again. She gasped and gasped and -- bingo.Her mind snapped as she gasped in the air. Her mind broke open, and she was mine, truly mine, my normal control reached into her mind itself. As she gasped for air I worked quickly -- you only get a couple moments, ten seconds of breathing, or so, and it's gone.Is it hypnosis? Or Stockholm syndrome?.