I barely registered him grabbing me before he flung me face first onto the bed. The first guy seemed pretty nice when I met him. Sex We were lying on our sides, facing each other. No one saw the bruises he used to put on my mother and me. “Oh, all right then,” my father said. In fact, here’s a great idea. “Oh God, please make him like what he sees,” I prayed. She assured her fellow officers I was unarmed, and she hustled me into the back of an ambulance. “Open your mouth. “You’re raping my daughter! “Where’s the gun?” an officer barked at me. “I hate that shit! “Who made the fucking icing?” my father roared. “Yes, Dad.”
He was dressed for bed in his usual sleeveless “wife-beater” undershirt and the boxer shorts he had no doubt worn that day. “Who made the fucking icing?” my father roared. He was big, strong, athletic, and powerful. My mother stood there, a mix of terror and rage on her face. She had red welts all over her buttocks and thighs. “You stupid cunt. I’m so sorry I didn’t take you and run away. “Oh that feels good, baby girl.
