Starved Beast. Part 3

Should I hurt her? Should I play with her like a cat with a bird, teasing her garments from her body as if with a knife?

It's an idea and I could if I wanted. Have you ever been tempted to do something like that, I mean if you had the power and there were no one to stop you? Most men have. They dream of it. They imagine the power.

"I ... I don't know," she babbles, horror and foreboding churning in her stomach. "F ... father said this was a safe place, that I should come here if ... if ... I had to and there were no alternative ... but ... mon dieu. This isn't safe ... It's beneath human creation and I don't understand why I'm here. Oh Papa! Papa! What have you done?"

She lifted her dress and examined her knee, using her petticoats to shield her stocking as a Matador would use a cape with a bull. But I managed to side step her guard and I peered at her knee and the heaven above it, the red garter and the bare white thigh and the flash of pink silk. But because I di