Then he went to work in earnest. He rained blows on her; as far as she was concerned, he opened the floor below her feet and dumped her ass-first into...a hurricane. His rhythm felt erratic; there was no way to work with the white-hot agony, no way to breathe through it, no way control her wriggling.Or her helpless, rageful tears.Or her sporadic, high-pitched, guttural shrieks.At some indefinable but familiar point of sensory overload, she simply surrendered. She let the pain in, and it blotted. He asks to come in to show me what he found.So we go into the kitchen diner, he opens the laptop and then presses keys and my boob pic, from here, appear on the screen. He then says "if you don't show me these now, I am going to send the pics around work, from your email account"....I am thinking oh no, oh no....So he eggs me on, I lift my jumper and flash my boobs, he insists i take my bra off. So I do and show him my boobs.He then flick the key and shows me the other pic, "and this he says". More

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