Her Spanish was. She spoke politely ... probably her mother’s influence ... but she was an American teenager through and through.“Karen Post. I ow... the place.”“Heck ... there goes my job.”“I doubt it. Keep doing what you do, I need to go to town.”“But ... you’ve already done my job.”“I suppose,” I said. “Would you care to go to town?”“Oh, God. Yes.”It was still snowing ... picking up a little and getting breezy. The Jeep had a better heater so we took that.Soldier Creek was freshly plowed. I. She'd done that a lot before. But what she did next was new. She tied my feet back over my head, stretching one to each corner of the headboard. This rocked my pelvis up, exposing my asshole completely.I guess I knew what was coming but I still twitched when I felt her fingers gently probing my sphincter. Her hands were slippery with some sort of lubricant and she was working it deep into my anus. And then there was a long pause in the action while I was just left there, blindfolded, imagining. She grew up in constant fear that she would be assaulted at anytime, and in emotional turmoil that maybe somehow she deserved it. Why else would she be beat like that, if it wasn't for doing something wrong? Her father beat her and her mom let him because they loved her; that had to be it. It scared her that sometimes she didn't even know what it was she had done wrong to deserve a beating, she had thought if she couldn't tell right for wrong, she must indeed be a bad person.Her brother,. “It means the time has come for us to lay it all on the line.” “All being?” “Our feelings, Justin.” A sad smile came to her. “I was warned from the beginning just what I could and could not expect from you and…you warned me yourself, as you well know, but you have gone so far beyond the rules you set and I…Justin, you may not want to see it as such, but what we have is a relationship.” “Colby….” “I am in love with you.” Her voice rang strong and proud and true as she said it…said the words she.