She was too ashamed to tell her workmates or friends about the indignities she had suffered during her marriage. There were days when just walking was...agony because her husband had abused her with a beer bottle or any other object he thought he could force inside her; usually when he had been unable to maintain an erection, which was often. One night he had made her dress in her old cheerleader uniform and fellate him for hours and he had still been unable to get wood. He had blamed her for his. Her tight-lipped stare skewered John. “He’s not quite dead yet” she said in a brittle voice. “Want me to get your pistol so you can do it quicker?”John held up his hands. Instead of trying to defend himself he just said, “He’s done for the day.”“He most certainly is” agreed his wife, her eyes glinting dangerously. She reached out and stroked Bobby’s hair. “Bobby, you just take as long as you want for lunch. When you’re done I’ll draw you a hot bath. You’re going to need some of that salve on. More

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