I wanted to do things to him, the things my mom would never have done. I wanted to show him how much I loved him in that way, the secret and forbidden...way.At home I went back to being his daughter though and I his wife too, sorta, and I loved him that way. A non-romantic way. I cared for him. I protected him. I cooked and cleaned and nagged him and I was happiest then. I had my little dreams of being his wife sometimes, of sleeping in his big bed with my arm over his stomach, listening to him. Her breasts were really small, almost tomboyish and she was massaging my friends back in long smooth strokes. I opened the minibar and took out a can of Thai beer, opened it and sat on my bed and watched her hands washing over her back and down her flanks. ‘Fuck Mariel, I’m getting wet here’ she said and burst into a fit of laughter. ‘You planning a bit of girl on girl’, I asked, half hoping she would say yes, and give me a reason to do something naughty in front of her b*****r. ‘Fuck you. I needed to get Terry to remove her from the corporate structure as well. Maybe I could just put her as inactive, on hiatus or something. She did say that ... no, no I couldn’t dwell on that, not now.Just those thoughts were enough to make my head hurt and for that yawning chasm in my chest to threaten my sanity again. Here though, my early experiences after Everett Reilly were a lifesaver. I had learned back then to push the pain aside, to compact it and lock it away. If it were hidden,. ''feeling shy as fuck her calling me a small cock, i got sad and my cock got even smaller and smaller''oh you getting so little , whats the problem? , you getting so small wow so cute''''come here little cock boy, its ok come here''i was help on her bed, my wrist suddenly locked in cuff''you better be a very good boy now''''i like to play with boys little cunt, yours look so tight''''waitttt what nooo ''her finger in my hole making cirle as she spit down her finger trying to get in.