I kick off my shoes, throw off my shirt and drop my pants so I am standing before you in naught but girlie pink panties that betray my stiff and tiny ...oy clitty.You laugh and ask, “Are you hard for me, boy?” You know the answer but you like to hear me say it. This is all part of it for you; you get off on dominating and humiliating your cocksuckers. “Well,” you ask again, “are you hard for me?”My face flushes as I respond with a whispered, “yes.”“’Yes’ what?” you continue, demanding that I say. "That's a good plan." I said sarcastically.Nope. Sarcasm doesn't work with her."Are you going to be able to help at all? You are not exactly powerless yourself." I'm going to be busy protecting my granddaughter." She looked serious and yet I didn't believe her for a second. There were six bodies in that same leather armor that I faced earlier not thirty feet away."Fine, then bar all the entrances except for the main door; we'll leave that open and let them funnel into it. We'll need to clear a. When she staggered back to bed, she grasped my arm and cuddled with it as she settled down to sleep once more. As she did, she looked up at me and asked, “Who was that man who spoke to you before?”“What man?” I thought that she was talking about a dream.“You know ... The one that said, ‘You won’t be here long.’”Oh my goodness.How did she hear the voice of death? No one ever heard the death voice but me. Something here was not like my other lives. Abby and I really did have some eternal reason. Nancy was almost certain that her mother was dead. Why pack it and then leave it? Also, if it had been some serial killer or pervert why pack the suitcase at all? No, it was for deception. Someone wanted her father and the police to believe her mother had left of her own accord. Then it looked like several days later it didn’t matter anymore. By then, Nancy surmised, she was definitely dead and buried.Nancy was sick and wanted something that would help her sleep. She had told her father and he.