When we were done with the dishes I went to my bedroom and locked the door, I couldn't tell if he was crazy enough to badge into my room with our parents were around. Lying in bed, I traced the bruises with tentative fingers, wincing at the heat under my skin.
Sleep evaded me, mind replaying the toys, his c**k slamming into my p***y. I hated it but loved it at the same time, the way the pain twisted into something electric. I squeezed my thighs together, I was getting wet. I punched my pillow until dawn crept in trying to stop myself from thinking about it.
Morning came too soon. Our parents went off to work early, the house was silent again. I showered, locking the door this time, scrubbing viciously but the marks were still on my body, there were fading welts on my ass, my tender n***
