“The rule is...” he stuttered nervously as he approached her in the small room. I remember the first time that my father was sent to beat her. My ...randmother insisted I observed Connasse carrying out what she called her homework. “Well, it isn’t my rule, but I have to beat you like my mother said,” Robert’s tone was apologetic.My mother was bound with her hands behind her back, and one leg chained up over her heard. Her body was contorted so that her cunt and asshole were exposed and. Those helped a lot on those many nights when I would be especially lonely and ended up masturbating while my son slept. David was kind enough to have the rest of my toys and things sent to my place about a month after I moved; the note said he didn't want them anymore because he couldn't look at them and remember us. I guess I understood his logic, although at the time it was like salt in an open wound.Once my boy was almost five, I decided to move to a nicer place in a better part of town so. More

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