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Vinny stood up, kissed Em on the forehead and said, “Good luck, kid, call me if you need anything,” and with that, he was gone. She returned to unpacking but found her thoughts drifting to her surrogate uncle’s chest and shoulders and her hand drifting between her thighs. Every time she tried to push it out of her mind, she could see him bending her over and spanking her as she deserved. As Monday arrived, she hoped work and school would keep her busy and her mind off Vinny. By Tuesday she was formulating a plan. If she called with a problem, he might send a friend to fix it, or worse, her own father. If she asked to express gratitude for moving day, he might bring over the whole crew. She needed him to come over, alone, and not accidentally tell her father beforehand. On Wednesday morning, she called him. “Hi, Uncle Vinny,” she crooned into the phone. “Hey, what’s up, kid?” “I need to talk to you about Daddy. It’s his 50th this year. I feel like he deserves something special. Let me. I must have closed my eyes because before I knew it I could feel Marty next to me, slowly licking on my neck. We finally got to his apartment and I reluctantly followed him up. Before I knew it he had me pulled close, putting his mouth over mine. I shoved him away, feeling stupid as I saw the anger and frustration flash in his eyes. He pressed me down against the couch. I let him kiss me. He was so wild…Before I could stop him he roughly pushed me all the way down, quickly getting on top of me and resuming his kissing. I struggled with him, doing my best to keep my skirt down as he struggled back to spread my legs and lay between them. I pushed him off enough so I could turn over, but he grabbed me and roughly shoved me face down. His strong hand reached under my skirt and yanked my panties down. I cried out in pain as he tore at them, giving me several deep and nasty bruises as he twisted them and ripped them off me. All I could feel was shock as he shoved a finger inside my wet.
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We’d never get the makers in , we’d have no samples. There’s no way. It can’t be done.’ ‘I want the place in full lock down. We’ll work around the clock from the studio here. I want to sack all the models and the current makers anyway, so we’ll get fresh blood in. And they’ll work from here. We’ll be a little community devoted to bringing in this line. We have six weeks. I can work out a flow chart and …’ ‘Our problem isn’t a flow chart Jay. This can’t be done. No one’s creativity works under pressure you know that. Otherwise we’d have brought out four lines a year instead of two. We won’t be able to produce our best work. And I’d rather give Sutomi the line than produce inferior work. The Full Figured Chic line is a tough sell. We’ll have to make it our very best work in order to get the very concept over the line.’ Jay sat at his desk looking at Greg with a smile on his face. Greg could tell Jay thought this was a done deal. Furious, Greg tried a different tack. ‘You can’t do this.

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