“That is quite the accusation, though you do not say it accusatorially”
“Indeed it is,” she said impudently, in a voice laden with unshed tears. How she could manage to sound impudent and still be so emotionally pained is beyond me, but I must say I admire her for. It was this very quality that had made her so irresistible. The unending will to fight back. At no point did she ever give in to the helplessness of the situation, even though she knew that to resist was futile. Call me sadistic, but I enjoyed her feeble attempts at resistance. It was new, hence the appeal. Women did not resist me, some pretended to, but did not truly resist me. But she did though, every time. Her punches and scratches were weak, and feeble and could not have gone deeper than the surface, but I had enjoyed them
