They knew I didn’t like using the showers in the girls’ locker room.. As I stripped my filthy, ruined clothes off, I looked at myself in the mirr...r. There was a faint red mark on my face where he’d hit me, and I could still see handprints on my tits. They weren’t breasts anymore, I thought to myself. Only good girls have breasts; sluts have tits, udders or milkbags. There were bleeding scrapes on my knees where the gravel had dug into the skin while he was fucking me, but most of all, I. Unless you count answering this phone or spending fifteen years of your life with a conniving Bitch! Everything's just peachy Josh." The last part of that came out as a growl that was so unlike me that even I was surprised.I walked down the hall to my door and fished in my pocket for the key."Hang on a sec." I said as I threaded the key into the lock and opened the door. I took my hands free set and plugged it into the jack on the phone and put the phone in my pocket."Ok I'm back. Look I just. More

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