I turned away but she grabbed my hair and told me not to turn away from the camera. “Who’s fucking you slut?” she asked. “No, please don’t ...ake me say it.” She slapped me across the face while my father pinched my two nipples before pulling them hard. “If you don’t answer the questions I’ll whip your mother hard”. he said “Who’s fucking you slut?” she asked again. “My father.” I sobbed “Tell me how much you love been your father’s slut” My father pinched harder. “I love been my father’s slut”. About forty or so Ian stood half a foot taller than me and was broad across the shoulders. He was not so bad to look at though his crumpled clothes bought a decade ago didnt help, in another life I might even have found him attractive, but not in this one. Cooking my dinner like a good little bitch, he said. It was true, I was stooped over the stove. My mother certainly never cooked and Ian had a tendency to get violent if he didnt have a meal on the table after work. I said nothing, it was. More

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