I wanted to run. Fear had now bolted my feet firmly to the floor. Quickly I tried to think of the possible outcomes. I lie and say it wasn’t me who ...rote it. I lie and say it was make believe. I plead for forgiveness and ask him to forget he ever saw it.His fingers, the same fingers that had grazed my nipple accidently over a week ago now held my chin up so he could look me in the eyes. I didn’t look at him still, knowing what he saw, reddened bloodshot eyes and tears. Gently his thumb wiped my. "That's it. That's it my pretty, pretty girl. You enjoy that, don'tyou. You enjoy being fucked. You love being fucked. You are a sissyfucktoy. Being fucked is what you do. You love to have a big cock upthat sissy cunt. That's what it's for. You feel empty unless your sissycunt is filled. Yes, that's it my pretty, pretty girl." His voicefilled her ears and penetrated into Lisa's mind. She loved hearing thatvoice no matter what he was saying to her. It was always good to hearher. More

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