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Agnesa had forgotten what real fear felt like. She dressed slightly provocatively at school, but she rather liked the idea of all the boys and some of the girls drooling over her. This was not that. This was a fucking nightmare. If she spoke that bastard would shoot her and he would wait until the school was dark to haul her out by her new “jewelry” as he called her leash and collar. “You’re going to love my dads dungeon” he said. “Don’t cry Agnesa, don’t give him that satisfaction” - she thought - “not yet.”
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