Who’s arse was it in the picture? It looked like mine. But what I could see and what was happening were different. After that there was something el...e, it felt more like a feather duster this time. Still the picture showed nothing. I wriggled my arse. Although I was bound quite tight it’s always possible to clench a little and get some movement. The picture did nothing. So it’s not me, I thought. Right then I saw the pinwheel drawn across the skin in the picture and after that sure enough a. I shuddered slightly, unable to comprehend that he would actually want me to stay. Was this good, or bad? I must have stayed silent too long, because he gripped my hair gently and pulled my head up."Girl, answer me. Do you understand?"I said in the tiniest voice possible."Yes dear."He actually almost smiled."Good. Get up, go clean your face. We'll talk a bit more when you get back."We talked, before we went to bed, separately. It seemed a good idea to both of us. I was as frightened as I had. “You surprised me kavita. I didn’t think that I would catch you of all people readinga magazine behind your textbook. You did so well with Voltaire last semester, why not Shakespeare? It’s a much easier read, in my opinion.”“Candide was fun,” she replied with a grimace. “Midsummer’s Night Dream?—not so much.” She pulled on her skirt more, uncomfortable with the way Mr. khan was staring disapprovingly at her bare legs.Or was he checking her out?The thought made her smirk; that meant no detention. But I also saw him rip a door off of a car in one scenario, that is like five or six times stronger, easily. And he really is impervious. Like, totally. We were trying that throwing drill again, and I accidentally threw him at a car that had a pipe inside. He caved in the side of the car at least two feet and stopped when his torso hit the pipe. And he just slapped it and laughed, that dude felt nothing!”“Clint, that worries me a bit, though. You said the more angry he gets, the stronger he.
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