It was a pink colored towel, my husband, Anil, had once bought me, with the word ‘QUEEN’ printed on it. Looking myself in the mirror, and in my sl...tty state of mind, I could only read it as ‘WHORE’.I still had one more day before my son, Sanjay, was home. I had not eaten anything since the last morning and decided to have a quick breakfast. I opened the fridge to be greeted by the familiar sight of frozen sausage packets. My husband, Anil, and my daughter, Shwetha, loved them.I had never tried. .though I don't imagine other girls crave their daddies like I crave mine. His lips tender across my flesh; his palm able to caress, other times wielding a sting if I should need correction. "Let me see," he said reaching down for the letter I had written to my mom. I hand it to him careful to not make eye contact with him. It's not that I am scared of him, quite the opposite. As I said, the way that he looks at me makes my stomach flutter, and my pulse quicken. I'm not supposed to top from. More

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