He again made me bend on the bonnet of the car and this time he started to insert his finger into my asshole. I jumped away and told him, that I will ...ever do anal sex. But he didn’t hear me. He held my head and pushed it on the bonnet and stamped my left hand with his left leg.He then started to enter it without putting any saliva and whispered in my ears that I deserved the pain. He slowly started pushing in and I started to scream louder so that anyone could come and help. But he didn’t care. No gentleman wants to marry a girl who has a reputation as a tramp, and I don't want any daughter of mine to ever get such a reputation. So no more eye makeup for at least two years, young lady. You'll thank me for being strict when you find the man of your dreams and he proposes. Now come over here so I can put this apron on you, I don't want you to soil your dress while you're doing your kitchen chores." I was dumbfounded. Here was my mother talking as if I was a girl. She must have. But the week before the trip, she starred in all his best fantasies.He would imagine her playing in the yard, running through the tall grass. He would chase her, and she would giggle. When he caught her (her fight was only half-hearted, after all), he'd roll her on top of him in the grass. She'd sit low on his stomach, smiling down at him (strange, because he wasn't sure he'd ever seen her smile). That's when she'd notice it -- that long, hard thing in his pants.Her eyes would widen. She would. Reaching above its casing, she apparently pressed a concealed button, causing the door to slide silently open revealing a small elevator cab. She led me inside and pressed another button marked with an arrow pointing upward. The door hissed shut as quietly as it had opened and I heard a soft humming sound as the cab began to smoothly rise."Good Lord, Bridget, a lift just to go up one flight in a private home? Isn't that just a bit ostentatious," I observed."Kevin's also a security nut, I'm.