You couldn't expect help from the fuzz. They were no fucking use and never there when you might need them. All they were good for was offering protect...on for as long as you paid them a cut of the action.If only she'd been able to get help from the police on this occasion. Then the cunts wouldn't have taken advantage of her. They wouldn't have ripped off her clothes and fucked her serially, violently and repeatedly. They wouldn't have stolen the few hundred pound notes she'd borrowed from Oz to. They reached her bedroom. The relief on Simon's face, presumably because he saw it was empty, nearly made her cry.He politely declined her offer of assistance, and entered the bathroom alone. He came out nearly an hour later, moving with much less difficulty.Simon found the nightgown she'd left out. The wardrobe hadn't had any clothing for boys inside- she'd taken the largest, least frilly, thing it had held.But it was still pink.She pretended to be asleep. The bed was big enough to easily hold. More

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