”“I understand.”She squeezed my hand hard.“If you hadn’t stopped ... Thank you for stopping!”“My bladder deserves the thanks,” I smile....“I’m sorry I treated you like shit,” she said quietly.“It’s nothing.”“It’s not nothing. I’d reached a stage where, in my mind, all men would hurt me. Murdoch had got me to the point that I was starting to give in to him. That Stockholm Syndrome thing. It’s crazy. I’m crazy. I’m fucked up in my head. He would hurt me badly, and then bring me a soda or something.. And so we wore kurti and leggings. The only rule was no tearing of clothes was allowed.It started with boys v/s girls as usual. We target a particular person and drench him or her in colors. In the process, after two girls and one boy, I was the next target. Three of them were completely drenched in colors.When they started coloring me, I felt hands on my boobs and vagina. By the end of it, they had pulled down my lower. I surprisingly let it go. I was playing like that, just in panty and top.I. More

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