He opened my dress. The front of me was totally naked for my son to do what ever he wanted to do to me. He started running his hands up and down my bo...y. He started fondling both of my tits. He kept cupping them with his hands. I struck my chest out so he could press against my tits even harder. I raised my hips up and pulled my dress out from under my ass. My son understood why.He lowered his hands to unzip his shorts. I had to rise up so he could get to his zipper. I heard him unzip his. For if he was not dead, he knew he was still a prisoner. ‘Nay, you are healing.’ Isobel kissed his temple as he drifted back to sleep, and began to hum a lullaby from her childhood. It wasn’t so much for him, as for herself that she allowed the gentle sounds her mother had made soothe her own soul as she wept for the man in her arms. A warrior was not a warrior if he could not see to fight, to defend. Her brother had delivered a punishment, a show of his cruelty far worse than she had ever. More

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