He likes to hear stories of the first time that I was fondled. He sits me down much as a therapist would, he asked me how I feel and how was my day or how is my day going. It’s funny that it always starts out that way concern, but it still leads into his twisted fantasies of hearing how little ones have been compromised. He likes to hear all the intricate details of what type of day was it he asked, where were you sitting what were you wearing he has to know everything it’s important to him. His cock gets bone hard when I tell him how the drapes in my uncle’s house looked. He always needs to know how did I get to the place where I was fondled with who brought me there or was it someone that I lived with. He enjoys it when I tell him that my auntie took me over to my uncle’s house and she would leave me there. She would go and pick me up for him, and he would pay her money and then she would leave. My auntie was mentally imbalanced, to say the least, so I don’t even know if she knew what she was contributing to. When my auntie took me over to my uncle’s house, I don’t know if she had any idea that he was going to do more than babysit me more than Teach Me piano lessons she just had no clue. This was an uncle that wasn’t a blood relative in my family he was Walter the man who I thought was the devil. He did things to me that I could not even block out I still shiver when I say or hear his name. Walter was its name the demon sexual deviant bastard who fulfilled all of his rape fantasies with me as the victim.
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