This was followed by my attending to herpersonal and intimate care and needs. She taught me how to give apedicure and instructed me on shaving her pus...sy. I eagerly followed herdirections and received words of praise for a task well done, but nothanks from her. It was now expected of me to follow her wishes.One thing I did notice was that there were no more arguments in our newrelationship. Previously, when disagreements surfaced between us itwould be argued out with each of us trying to achieve. How many had she shed? How many little manifestations of her agony had wet the ground here? Had any of them made their way through the cold, hard earth to reach him? Did he know the grief that ate at her soul, even two years after he had left her? Survivor guilt. That’s what all of the so-called experts were telling her, had been telling her. They tried to put a generic label on the void that stood where her life had been, tried to compartmentalize her loss until it fit into tidy little boxes.. When I pulled up, she was there, on time and seemingly dressed as she had been told. She hoped in. Our interactions are purely sexual so we avoid the small talk and simple hellos. I treat her coldly and harshly and she loves it. I reached over and pushed her coat open. She had on a bra with matching thong panties. I slapped her face and barked "Oh, you want to be defiant tonight? Okay, I'll teach you." I could see her tremble but she stayed quiet. Instead of driving to the hotel where I had. "I'll bet you never even heard the sirens."Huh?" Jack said, sitting down at the breakfast table and buttering some toast."The prison siren, big brother. Want some coffee?" Yeah, thanks. Morning, honey," he said as Patti walked in and sat down. She was wearing a thin robe over her nighty and looked good enough to eat."Morning, Daddy. Aunt Karen." She looked around. "Where's Winston? Didn't you let him in?"Karen shook her head. "He's too big and messy, dear."Now that Jack had seen Karen's naked.