Then the cold of the stone floor struck upwards through her body and she could feel her nipples hardening.Don’t think, she told herself. Don’t think about anything.“Now use the toilet,” Andreytov commanded.Ekaterina looked from him to the open toilet against the far wall in consternation. She had never done that before another person in her life, not her adult life at least.“We don’t want a mess, do we?” Andreytov asked.She stood up uncertainly, crossed the floor, and obeyed the command; it actually was very necessary and a considerable relief.“Now stand against the bar,” Andreytov commanded.Ekaterina had not noticed the bar before; she had been too busy trying not to look at any of her surroundings. The bar, a rounded steel tube, was positioned to one side of the room, raised horizontally some three feet from the floor upon two other rounded steel tubes. These had grooves into which the parallel bar fitted, and handles by which it could be raised and lowered as required.She drew a. It was demanding, hard work, and I approached it very seriously. If my professional and athletic pursuits didn’t keep me busy enough, then there were the boys. As if on cue, the two youngest, Dylan and Reggie, came rushing out of the back rooms the boys shared. Reggie, who was ten, came bounding over, all smiles as usual, and wanting a hug. Reggie had his mother’s big dark eyes and her ears, and her lightly tanned skin. He was a hugger like his mother, too. Of my five stepsons (stepsons to be, technically, but it was all but official), he and I were probably the closest. “Welcome home, Evan,” Reggie said as I gave him the hug he wanted. I patted his back and smiled down at him tiredly. “Thanks, Reg.” “You’ve got a black eye again,” he observed. I gave a soft chuckle. Reggie always pointed out my bruises and bloody lips and black eyes and whatever other bits of damage I came home with. He had a child’s morbid fascination with them. “I know. It’s fine. Where’s your mom?” “She’s in her.
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