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I am still nude and you involuntarily glance down at the cock that just violated you. It is semi-hard hanging down and you think you may have break before I rape you again. Then you noticed the bottle of cooking oil in my hand. I must have found it in your kitchen.I stand at the foot of the bed for a moment gazing across your body. As I take in the details I am pleased. There is dried blood on your face, and some bruising is showing up on your face and stomach. Dried cum and with a small mixture of blood is cakes the bottom of your vagina and has oozed to your little ass. Your long hair is damp from sweat and urine. Some of it is draped across your face in caked curls. The total picture is very sexy. My cock gives a twitch and hardens a bit causing your stomach to flip and you feel a tingle of nervousness.I pour some of the cooking oil in my hand and rub it around. Setting the bottle on the bed I shove four fingers into your pussy. I move them around just enough to spread the oil. "Here we are," John announced, pulling the car into the driveway. Belle recognized it. "I live here..." she said slowly, the memories rising inside her. "With Roger." She was puzzled. Why was she with this John man and not Roger? He was her husband, after all. And he'd liked the new haircut... She closed her eyes and thought, but it was hard and she got more and more frustrated. John watched her carefully. He'd been giving her steady doses of Complyoform regularly for the last several weeks -- since they started seeing each other regularly. For the last three weeks -- since she'd moved out of her home -- the doses were coming daily. The confusion was normal but he wanted to make sure she wasn't suffering any negative side effects. "Who lives here, dear?" he asked softly. "Roger," she said in a quiet voice. "And who is Roger?" 
 "Roger is my husband." She turned and stared at John. "But I'm here with you. Why is that?" "You gave yourself to me, don't you remember?" John said.
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