He watches her pace back and forth, puffing away. Just when her pulse returns to normal, sounds start emanating from the bedroom. Listening to Tyson scream as Lenisha and Catrien act out their knife-play fantasies on him, Emily leans into Sheldon. “I’m scared. Hold me.”
He does as she asks, pulling her into him. They sink to the sofa, where she sits on his lap sobbing silently against his neck. It feels as though his nonexistent p***s is simultaneously being crushed, is being severed by layers of cloth, is penetrating her. They rock back and forth for a good half hour, during which time Emily comes to think of Sheldon as a compassionate man trapped by circumstance.
He is not doing this out of the goodness of his heart. No, he is committing a bizarre, if harmless, form of violation.
“W
