The lights were a bright blur. She could see the men in uniform walking up to the front door. Her mom was crying, Buster at her side. . She could feel...the cock in her ass THROBBING. Everything began to swirl around. The warm spring day, the words, On Behalf of a Gratefull Nation. She tried to breathe but felt the semen in her throat. Her head shook again and again as she was face slapped. People were yelling at her Dad, calling him a killer. Vomit was coming up her throat and through her. If John and bothered to look back, he would have seen surprise and hurt in Victoria’s eyes as she watched him walk in the wrong direction. But within seconds, she replaced hurt with righteous indignation. And with the splendid simplicity and finality of a child’s mind, John Turner became the enemy. Victoria was all grown up now, though. She still had a wild mane of hair, but her body had turned into a woman’s somewhere along the way. She had large, firm breasts and hips that made her the object. More

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