They saw my pleasure in the coffee and I was given more. My bladder was bursting but I could not get up to relieve myself as I was still tied to the c...air. I looked up pleading for an escape to the loo but it was then I saw a huge plastic bag hanging on a pole with what appeared to be the rest of the coffee. I wondered but kept my silence. I watched as Master and Mistress groped one another. I saw their bodies react and felt my own confused bodily sensations. . Whore, he screamed, he guessed, and monster, and bitch, of course, and whore again, by lack of better. But it didn’t matter which words he chose, they were all just cannon fodder for his exploding insanity.When all his energy was spilled, he sagged against her, sobbing.“I’m ... I’m sorry,” his mother whispered.The words woke him from his stupor. He rose and looked down on her, studying her phony face.“No,” he said, his voice calm again. “No mother, you know that is a lie, and you don’t come. " Outside," I said, sheathing my bloody knife.He nodded and backed away. I helped the girl to her feet and got her to sit down and rest her head on the table. "Get her some water," I said to the crowd as I watched the big man head for the door and button his waistband. I removed my heavy belt and gave it to the girl. She looked at me blankly.The crowd from inside the tavern did not make much of a circle outside since there were only a dozen or so in number. But the soldier and I squared off in. Married Rebecca Parsons last year. We dated all through college. We both went to Moorhead,” he said.“Yeah. Well, good luck to both of you.”Jesse was nice. My fucking husband who drugged and raped me and stayed on the oil rigs as much as possible, who had affair after affair while I raised our daughter alone, had gone to college and married the slut he slept with the week after he knocked me up!I could not have been wrong about what I did. I couldn’t!Still, here I was in my hometown confronted.