A crouching silhouette is sleeping in the armchair by the bed. At first she thinks it is Peter but instantly she corrects herself. The smell is not co...rrect, it is her mother’s. “The smell?” she thinks. How come she can identify her mother by her smell? But the idea sticks in: the menthol from the cigarettes she smokes, the cheap perfume, the juniper wood of the gin she drinks; it is clearly her mother. She sniffs to be sure but the reassuring smell is replaced by something much more powerful, a. I couldn’t see him, but he stood behind me for several minutes making a strange sound.”The bastard, I thought to myself, jerking off while looking at his daughter’s pussy.“Sorry to ask you this, but does he spank you often?”“He started spanking me ever since Mom left us and only when I don’t do as he tells me, or when I cry. I think he enjoys it. He likes the control it gives him. He wants me to behave in a certain way, and if I don’t, he punishes me. That’s why I try to stay quiet and mostly. I’ll hold on to the bath in the meantime.”He left her, fetched the large towel he now knew was a bath sheet and swung it round her back to wrap her in it. She felt wonderful as he did this, and pulled it tight around her body. There was a bathroom stool nearby, so she indicated she wanted to sit there. Reg helped her over and she sat down in relief.“Shall I leave you to dry yourself, Prudence?”“If you don’t mind, Reg ... thanks.”“I never got around to asking, ‘how’s the head?’”“Thumping a bit,. “Do you mind if I watch?” she asked. I blinked, stopping what I was doing. “Yes. You can’t see this.” “Why not?” she giggled. “Because,” I said, “It’s just something I do for myself. You won’t show me yours.” She laughed quietly. “You never asked.” I stopped again, frustrated at the second interruption. “Are you saying that all I have to do is ask to see yours and you’d show it to me?” “Uh-huh,” she replied. I bit my bottom lip. We were siblings! This wouldn’t go over right with our friends at.