So he wasn’t shot, then?”“No, not shot. But he was badly hurt.”“How the hell did that happen?”“Bark. Bark and wood splinters in his face...and neck.”Bertrand Adams almost slammed his phone down in frustration. Instead he gritted his teeth, took a steadying breath, stared up at his Denver office ceiling in supplication, and in his most unctuous, witness-questioning manner, he began again.“Stop, please. This is getting us nowhere. Simons, start from the beginning and don’t stop until you’ve told me. They rang for the watchman and looked idly back at the Grecian columns framing the front entrance to the mansion and the incongruous Art Deco ball room add on they had so recently left.A voice on the intercom, "Yes" Phyllis Reilly and Jack Newbold to see Oriel" Come on in," the voice replied.The lock clicked and the handle was suddenly free, they walked in. A typical high airy American Horse barn, hard concrete floor, the rows of stalls with blue painted top and bottom stable doors, A guy in. He wiped the rest around her butt hole, coating it, too. He lifted her legs high enough to give him a clear view of the opening, and he placed the head of his cock against the tiny, brown, puckered entrance, and pushed slowly. This time she grunted, and spread her legs even wider, and lifted them even higher. The head was almost inside. He felt her hands pulling on HIS butt cheeks. He pushed in a little farther, watching her face. It hadn't changed. He pushed one more time. He was almost. And that time, I went through with it. And it was utterly amazing. It’s what my first time should have been. If I’d done it with you that first time, I would never have gone to see Mr. Dixon and I never would have been raped.”“Do NOT blame yourself for that!” I said firmly. “You were fourteen and he was a married teacher. He should have known better than to get involved in the first place, and even if I apply my own standards on age difference, he didn’t have consent. And that puts it solely on.