Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
“I’m going to press on your tummy in a few places, sweet girl. I need to make sure you’re not badly injured inside.”
I hold my breath as he presses against my tummy. It hurts, but I don’t cry.
“Such a brave Little girl,” he praises. “What about here?” He presses in another place and then another before saying, “I don’t think the bruising is very deep, but I’m not a doctor, and even if I were, you would still need some tests to make sure there’s no damage to your kidneys or your liver.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t hurt too bad. I don’t need tests.”
He ignores me as his fingers reach for my tights again. “I’m going to pull your tights down, Lacey. I’ll be careful to leave your panties in place.”
I don’t want him to pull my tights down, but when I reach for them to stop him, I cry out because my arm hurts.
Brian comes to my side and sets a hand on the top of my head before looking me in the eyes. His expression is unwavering and firm, his eyes narrowed and piercing. “Who do you live with, Lacey?”
“My father,” I whisper.
“No one else?”
I shake my head.
“Where’s your mother?”
“She died when I was ten.”
“Does anyone else come to the house?”
“No,” I murmur. I’m trembling badly again. I feel lightheaded. I didn’t eat dinner, so that’s not helping. I should have eaten something before I came.
He rubs my head gently as he continues asking me questions. “Do you have a job, Little one?”
“No, Sir,” I murmur.
“Do you go to school?”
I purse my lips and shake my head.
“What do you do during the day, Little one?”
“I take care of the house,” I tell him.
“Do you go out with friends?”
“No.” I don’t have any except the people I’ve met here.
“Is your father at home now?”
I shake my head.
“Where is he?”
“Hunting,” I murmur.
“Hunting? Did he go hunting for the weekend?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Does he do that a lot?”
I nod slowly.
“Does he know you’re here, Baby girl?”
I shake my head vigorously. A bit too vigorously I realize.
“Does he know you’ve ever been here?”
“No, Sir,” I whisper. I’m scared out of my mind. Is Brian going to take me home and make me tell my father where I go? I don’t think he would do that, but what’s the point of his questions?
Brian thinks for a minute and then starts again, “Do you go other places, Little one? The grocery store or shopping?”
“Not very often, Sir.” I sometimes go to the thrift store on Saturday mornings when he’s out of town and get some used clothes, but that’s the only place I dare go. I don’t have much money. I steal it from my father when he empties his pockets onto the counter. I never take more than a dollar or so until I have enough to buy used clothes.
“So the only place you regularly go is here when your father is not home?”
I nod.
“How did you find out about the Dungeon?”
“I found it on his computer,” I tell Brian. That’s how I also learned about Littles and Daddies, and I’ve been very fortunate because someone anonymously pays my membership.
He smiles. “Resourceful. Have you taken any college classes?”
“No…”
“How old are you, sweet girl?”
“Twenty.”
“So you graduated from high school two years ago?”
I want him to stop asking me questions. He’s getting too close to the truth. I’m sure he already knows it, but he’s tricky with his questioning. This question I don’t answer at all. I just stare at him.
He draws in a deep breath as if trying to calm himself again. He’s very good at that. I’m glad because if he starts yelling about my situation it will scare me more.
“Lacey, how much education have you had?”
I bite my lip.
“I’m not mad, Baby girl. I promise. I just need to understand.”
“I went through the eighth grade.”
“And then you just didn’t go to high school?” His brow is furrowed.
I shake my head. “My father told them we were moving. He needed me to help out more around the house. After my mother died, it was hard for him to keep up.” I don’t know why I’m defending him. I hate him, but I don’t want to say or do anything to make my situation worse.
Brian lifts my good hand and holds it in his, stroking my knuckles. “Do you make mistakes sometimes, Little one?”
I slowly nod, feeling the tears coming back.
He lifts my hand to his cheek and holds it there for a long time while he closes his eyes and breathes in and out through his nose.
Finally, he lowers my hand but he lifts it above my head as he does so. His expression is serious again. “I’m going to lift your dress higher, Little one.”
My lip quivers. “Please don’t do that,” I beg.
“I want to see what other booboos you have, Baby girl.”