"What good is a fishing line without a hook?" he asked her cheerfully, showing her two barbed fishing hooks. "Can you guess where these are going to ...o?"Maya could, and struggled to twist away from him, but between the rope around her hair and his cock up her ass, she was stuck. John drove the first hook into her left breast, just behind the nipple. He wiggled it a bit to make sure it was secure, and then did the same thing with the other hook and her right breast. She winced at the pain. “So, Holly,” my father would casually ask. “Make it to church?”“All the time, Dad. Agape House.”“That’s great,” pleased that I was staying rooted.At Agape we’d have pizza and discuss ecumenicalism or maybe environmentalism. The type of gathering was a bit new to Arthur, but he liked pizza. I liked the others seeing us together.What Agape House also offered was a place to hide away, opposite to what might be otherwise expected in a place open to all seekers. At day’s end, the last ones there. More

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