The headlock disappeared and now he was holding me around my waist. I tried to scream but any sounds were muffled in the cloth, and screaming just made the fumes even stronger, or at least they itched my throat more. Taking the chocolates home didn’t mean I would actually eat them, would it? ‘Ssshh,’ He said. ‘My dear Collete.’ He said shaking his head. What do you want? ‘There you go.’ He said kindly. It smelled sweet, chemically sweet, like acetone or turpentine or super glue or something. ‘I’m not ready. I was too groggy to object, so I just let it happen. You like being my limp rag doll. ‘Good girl.’ He said. His thrusting more rough and wild. My head lulling from side to side and sometimes a little moan came out of my mouth. You want to be my limp puppet don’t you?’
His voice sounded from far away, his voice sounded surreal, my ears were ringing and I guess I must have passed out at that point, because when I woke up I
