As before, she sat in his bed, tied to the headboard, as impassive as a statue. Amelia, stubborn as ever she had been to the many women her father had...brought into their house to educate her, was determined not to give up her silent protest. To her mind she was acting like a newly abducted Persephone. ‘Won’t you talk to me?’ he asked. Still she stared at him impassively. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked for the umpteenth time. Still there was no response. Seeing that he seemed to be sailing into. She squinted at me before she spoke."So, who would this be, exactly? I mean, would you really want to do this?"I shook my head and smiled."Absolutely not. It's a fantasy. I love your body - I'm absolutely addicted to it. I can't see you naked without getting at least a little hard, like when you get dressed in the morning, or undressed at night, or when you're in the tub, all wet and soapy, and call me in to tell me something. Don't you notice how I stare? Or when I try to steal a peek when you. More

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