I had no idea what he would do next. Still more silence.Then he quietly called me a whore. How could I possibly do that? With our son? He always knew ... was twisted ... but this? More silence. Hubby then took his hand from between my thighs. He brought it to my face and smeared our son's semen all over my mouth. If I hadn't felt overwhelmed with guilt and remorse, I might have enjoyed this gesture. But not this way. He repeated that I was a whore. A filthy one. More silence. Then, as unexpected. Somewhere, at some point, everyone draws a line.Where do you draw yours?...or, perhaps, there's no need to answer that. After all, since you're the one in possession of the great Drawbook, you don't need to worry, now, do you?Of course not.Instead, you must be wondering, what should I know to get this to work properly?It's simple, really. This is a magical book, the origins of which lie in an ancient practice long forgotten. The remnants of this knowledge, however, has been kept alive among a. More

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