“As you can see, my patience is gone. I don’t want to lose it with you here. I love you too much. I suggest you pull it together, go sit on the da...n couch, and tell me right now what’s going on.”She looked and saw just how on the edge I was. I forced my voice to stay calm. I’ve never yelled at her. Her face told me she knew that statement may not hold true in a moment. She stood and backed to the couch and sat looking defeated, helpless, and defenseless. Her face was contorted. Tear kept. They were expensive, but if they lived up to the ad they would be worth it.Then I searched everywhere for 'college girls raped, molested, tortured' and every variation that I could think of. After a thousand sites and what must have been a million pictures I found a site 'Raped and Tortured College Girls of the Northeast'. They said that they had four hundred raped coeds, at least one from every college in the northeast.I started with the very first one and looked at the stills used to promote. When she straddled his rump to give herself a better position to work on his back, her weight was like a feather.She completed her ministrations and asked him to roll over and he did so without embarrassment although his arousal was very evident.She seemed to pay no attention to his semi-erection as she worked on his arms, chest and upper torso.It completely unnerved him when she straddled his legs. The visions in his minds eye of them joining took care of the "semi" part of his erection. Her. In a Hindi-speaking household, of course I would fondly call my father’s mother as “Dad,” but as the sound is much like “Daddy” in American English, our family being English-knowing, she was “Grandmother.”When Auntie called me to her room, I thought it might to be to check my tie before I left for school. Although your aunt is not your mother, she can be thinking she is.“Please be so kind to hook me,” she surprised me, her bra yet unhooked beneath her choli.“Of course, Auntie,” so happy to be.