She knew the rules. Knees spread, hands on the floor behind her back. She knew her body was never going to be the same again, her choice to give herse...f to him completely made her forget everything else.She was sat in the perfect submissive pose, her hair flowing down her back out her face, the low light highlighting the deep red lace she wore for him. She knew this was his favourite colour, and by wearing it she hoped she would get something extra out of tonight.They were the perfect power. But on the other hand this feels so wrong. It feels like for some reason Ava wants me to be sexually close to her. It feels like she wants me to have sexual experiences with her - under the pretence of nudism, of cuddling with her, of shaving her private parts. Is this how she deals with the grief of the loss of her mother? Is the grief clouding her judgement? Are the sexual experiences with me a break and relief from her grief, from her physical pain? After all, her arms and legs have been. More

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