My dad looked at me as I picked up the broken shards of the bowl and stood up. “I’m going to be having these seizures for the rest of my life. I c...n’t go to the hospital after every one. I’ll get used to them eventually.”I suffered two more seizures that day, both of them causing me to fall to the floor in agony. My mom got home with my older sister and younger brother. They all paused when they saw me in the TV room. I was watching a horror movie and the room was dark. There were bags under my. He kept talking of witchcraft and divination, and he tied me to a post and he placed a black hood over my head and he brought my remaining friends and family in front of me, male and female, and he raped them; he tortured them, so that I might listen. He wanted me to admit that I was an agent of Satan and a murderer.A coward."She was seventeen years old," he screamed. "Only seventeen and you as good as killed her, and for that I damn you!"I denied it, of course. I swore to him that I knew. In just two weeks she'd managed to get the horse to come up to her whenever she came into the barn. He was her special project.She couldn't just open the gate and get the brush. To Widowmaker, an open gate was an invitation to run, and he was pure hell to catch, once he got loose. He was a wild Mustang her uncle had bought at a government auction just before she'd come to the ranch. The very first thing she'd been told was, "Don't open the stall that the Mustang is in." She peered down into the. I went back downstairs, dug out my stash of Penthouses, put the headphones on to Van Halen (can you imagine that being background music for sex now?) and dropped trou. I was curious about something, and so for the first time I started looking at the guys in the pictorials that had them.I wasn't exactly converted. Women were soft, round, wet... cute. Guys were, well, guys. Hard (not just there), rough, angular. But maybe I got a little more used to the idea. A cock was an interesting thing, mine.