Ich stolpere hinter ihm her. Er bugsiert mich durch eine kleine Tür am Rande der Stallungen. Schreibtisch, Akten, abgewetzte Ledersessel und ein Sofa... „Was möchtest du trinken?“, will er wissen. Ich schüttele den Kopf. „Nichts“, sage ich pampig. Langsam werde ich wirklich wütend. Ich will weg, aber er versperrt mir den Weg zur Tür.„Warum heiratet eine Frau wie du eigentlich einen Typen wie Lillys Vater?“ Seine Augen sind auf meine Bluse und meine vollen Brüste gerichtet. „Vatersyndrom, Kohle?“. My balance was none too good, and my own footsteps seemed to echo oddly. Finally, the stairs ended and I assured myself I was on solid ground. I felt around for a light switch. What my palm landed on instead was a firm, warm, hard-nippled breast. While I was still reacting to that, something soft was held over my mouth and nose and everything around me faded out. *** My shoulders hurt. That was the first thing I noticed. Shortly after that, my body told me that it was. More

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