I looked into his face, etched with focus. As the whipping continued, I tried to wrestle away as they landed and the spreader bar rattled and didn’t...let me move. I laughed at how much it hurt and how my pussy was betraying me, as she always does. Daddy didn’t laugh. My ass and hips felt fiery red and I kept longing to be held in Daddy’s strong, certain arms. The stripes stung and itched and I felt sweat puddle behind my knees and in the small of my back, but Daddy continued even as my moans. I told the driver to pick me up by 7 pm. So after school I went there at around 3.45. I knew his wife would not be there. He opened the door and pretended as if nothing had happened the previous day. I sat down and opened my books. He sat down near me and said “enikkariyam nee innu nerathe varum ennu” . Then he started pinching my thighs again and this time he was surprised to see no panties. He took me inside the house to his bedroom and hugged me badly – valandu ketti pidichu ente mulayillum. My wife, fucking another man in our bed. It wasn't rape and it wasn't a mistake. She was enjoying it. I could tell that from her face. It was all I needed to see. I threw the flowers away, turned and ran down the stairs to my car. I got in, started driving and ended up here two days later. I haven't called or let her know where I am and I don't want to. I don't know what I want to do. I know what my dad did and now I know why.That was my story. I looked at Bill and was surprised to see a tear. Her casual hold on the roof-rack had become a tight grip. I lost sight of the back of her head for a few seconds, as she leaned into the truck, and I thought she might be about to crawl or be dragged inside. I procrastinated some more, waiting for irrefutable evidence. Before I could tear myself away from the window, she pulled back and stepped down. Then I saw the shirt go tight across her back as she pulled it closed. The truck drove away. As it did, I took note of the sign on the side: Niko.
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