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His cheek bones are high and wide covered perpetually in a five o’ clock shadow. His broad shoulders, hinting at his life of manual labor the same way that his huge rough hands did. His hair was normally short, but he’d been gone for the last two months, and apparently hadn’t found anyone he wanted to cut his hair. That’s how tonight had gotten started. Corbin had been sitting on my porch when my last client left my house. He had been waiting for me in the long absence of seeing him and had invited me over to dinner. A brush of a hand, a quiet kiss of a shoulder. These were the things that had led to my destruction. He finally met me eyes, and I felt my insides rip and part of me tumble out. There was pain in those eyes, and I knew the speech. I had it memorized. I closed my eyes, turning away, heading for the door. ‘Kate, please. Let me explain…’ ‘Explain what?’ Did I sound bitter? Probably, but I was proud that my voice stayed steady, not sign of how shaky I felt. His voice was. So I had to beg permission to go outside to do my business. Sometimes he said yes; sometimes no. When the answer was no, I curled up in my crate and tried to fight the painful cramps as long as I could, but inevitably, it was a losing battle. I’d shit or pee in the crate and be forced to sleep beside it all night long. In the morning, before he let me clean it up, Daddy Sir would force my face into the mess and strap my ass until I was sobbing. Well, I figured, as bad as it seemed, it was better than trying to survive on the street. I’d just have to make the best of it until I could get myself and my life back in order.I was given only junk food to eat and cheap super-sweet sodas to drink. I didn’t understand the first time Daddy Sir opened a bag of Skittles and poured the entire contents into my food bowl. After a couple of days of a diet of nothing but candy, stale cookies, day-old fast-food fries and the like, he explained that he wanted to fatten up my skinny white ass. He wanted.
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