“Good. Go on, petty yourself up then.”She got her purse and struggled to open it. Her fingers wouldn’t really listen. Her make up wasn’t reall... easy to find even in normal circumstances. This was absurd, wrong and humiliating. But there was no way she could do anything but what he wanted her to do. She had to try and fix her make up. She had to try and look pretty for her captor, for her tormentor, for her rapist. Anything, just to avoid being hurt.Her hands were trembling so much that she. ..It had just been me and my for as long as I can remember. My mum died when I was four and honestly, I didn't remember much of her at all besides a vague memory of her voice. My daddy had raised me alone, a single dad at only twenty-two. Daddy had had a few girlfriends over the years but mainly it was just me and him. Now, with me at seventeen and daddy at thirty-nine, we were used to having just each other as company and honestly I preferred it. Daddy could still pass as thirty and he wasn't. More

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