A week passed in a haze of quiet terror. The "payments" became a part of my daily life. A quick, silent blowjob in the laundry room while my mom was in the garden. Getting fingered to a screaming, silent orgasm in his car in the garage just moments before we all went out for dinner. Each encounter was a brutal, terrifying reminder of my new reality. His so called debts were never ending

He never hurt me, not in a way that left marks. But the ownership was absolute. A look across the breakfast table, a slight tilt of his head, was enough to send me to a designated spot...