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As much as it pained me to admit it, Bill had achieved his purpose. Aside from destroying me morally, he had succeeded in making me hate my father. Well, hate, hate... maybe not. You don't destroy a love like the one I had for my dad in an afternoon. But it did get me to start harboring a strong resentment towards him. As much as I kept telling myself that he was doing it all for my own good, and to keep us from being separated, a part of my mind told me that he had gone too far and that my father's behavior towards me those last few days was unforgivable.

Feeling this way, the following days I punctually fulfilled all my duties as a slave, but I did so at all times with an expression of deep irritation and without accepting at any time the few gestures of affection that my father at that time still had for me. My purpose was to make him realize what he had done, feel guilty and apologize, or at least change his attitude.

The strategy failed miserably. It is true that for a couple of days my father seemed distressed by my attitude and hurt when I refused his caresses, but he did not apologize at any time, and immediately his compassionate attitude gave way to one of absolute indifference. It seemed to me, moreover - though it may have been my impression - that he was relieved. It was as if having to show me his love had become a kind of obligation for him and, since I didn't want to know about it, he was free not to have to. And that was a weight off his mind.

Naturally, as soon as I realized this, I wanted to rectify it. The last thing I wanted at that moment was to lose what little love my dad seemed to have left for me. But how could I do that? The only thing I could think of was to ask his permission to speak, one day while I was massaging his feet, and tell him:

-Master, I want to thank you for everything you have done for me. I know you do everything for my sake and I wanted you to know that I appreciate it.

I expected him to smile at me, caress me... I don't know, something. But all I got was that he answered me, with absolute indifference and without looking away from the TV:

-I'm glad you realize...

His attitude made me very sad. However, I didn't give up and added:

-And I hope that soon this will be over and everything will go back to how it was before...

I looked at him anxiously, waiting for his confirmation, but, to my desolation, my father did not answer and continued with his gaze fixed on the TV. Faced with my resounding failure, I was about...read more

“Blow me!” I gasped. Surprise was mixed with more than a bit of shock.

What on earth were the chances of seeing Jenifer in a place like this? I asked myself.

Chance meetings do happen, I know, but surely not as unexpected as this?

Indeed, I have met people in the most unusual places over the years. An old school friend outside the Sydney Opera House. Some neighbours on a double-decker bus tour in New York.

The best chance encounter I’d had was probably when I bumped into a colleague and her husband while walking along a naturist beach in the south of France. There was a moment of hesitation as our brains processed the unlikeliness of the situation, then we laughed, and grabbed a sneaky peek at each others’ bits.

But I wasn’t laughing now. I was just trying to believe the unbelievable—Jenifer was in the same room as me.

The last time I’d seen her was a decade ago, probably nearer two. I’d not even h..[urlThesupremacyhunters.com].read more[/url]