His fingers continued, briefly moving down her thighs, then returned to her belly. He moved back and forth, as if raking a zen garden, but gentle, eac... time sending that cold charge through her nerves.Then he cupped her stomach, pressing down like he was searching for something, something specific, a special mass. It twisted her insides into knots, the realization of what he was aiming for. She and her husband use to rub her stomach like that when she was pregnant. It all came flashing back,. "Stop, Margaret! That hurts." My face wascontorted with pain."Of course it hurts, Prissy. Remember? You did it to me, only Ididn't cry like a little girl when you did it." I'm not crying... oww!" I squealed. Margaret twisted and pulled myarm higher on my back. It was excruciating. "Stop, please!" I was onmy tiptoes trying to ease the pain. It hurt so bad, I was dismayed tofind myself begging Margaret to let me go. I didn't care that I washumiliating myself in front of Margaret and her friends;. More

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