He spreads my thighs with the tip of the cane, looks at the cuts and the bruises. He seems pleased but I can't tell from the featureless mask that cov...rs his face. My cunt is naked, exposed, but he's not looking at that; he's enjoying the bruising that they've done to my thighs. It's horrible how he's staring at me, more interested in my pain than my sex. He changes how I'm tied, straps my wrists up to the top of my arms, my ankles up to the tops of my thighs. I can't protect myself at all but. . hobby at all, now that I know how to dealwith it. It's not a problem, sweetie, not at all! Stephanie, you knowher, our neighbor across the street? In that corner brick house? Shetold me about you over a year ago. She'd glimpse you now and thengetting the paper in the doorway in your negligee on mornings when sheknew I was out of town. Or she watched you primping in our upstairsbedroom window or lounging around down here -- you often forget to resetthe blinds or pull the curtains at. I let my fingers brush across her tit, and she broke our kiss to give a little squeal – followed by another cry as I took a firmer hold of her breast, cupping the palm of my hand over it, and simultaneously compressing and massaging it.‘Aaah, yes!’ she gasped, ‘oh, Vicky ... yes, do that to me more, do it more!’I smiled down at her, and hunkered a little further down the bed so that I could bring my mouth to her right breast, whilst still continuing my groping and fondling of her left one. . James couldn't believe his ears. This Ray character had just moved high on his shit list. He was nothing more than an art dealing pimp."That guy Allen didn't touch you did he?" No, it never got that far. Once I found out what Ray had told him, I got up and left. I called Ray and told him I wasn't a whore that runs an art gallery with him. I can't believe I ever loved him," she sobbed again, "and he just thought of me as a whore..."She buried her face in James' shoulder and cut loose crying.