" Boss ... Mister Carpenter ... sir..."I interrupted – gently, I hope. "Jen. I think it might help if you just call me Jeff. If what you want to say is difficult, as I suspect, perhaps you'd like a drink?"She took a deep breath. "Yes. Thank you, Jeff. A small Scotch. Little water."I poured perhaps a little more than a small measure of Glenfiddich into a tumbler and added chilled water. Jen took it, looked at it, then at me, then sipped without comment. When about half had gone, she began."When I was ... twelve ... my father was arrested by the Guojia Anquan Bu ... Ministry of State Security. I don't know why. They interrogated him for days." She paused, and sipped again. "Please ... Jeff ... why don't you sit down?" and sipped again as I did so. "They then decided to use me to put pressure on him. He had to watch as they gang-raped me. Vaginally, then anally. Then made me clean their ... cocks ... with my mouth." Her voice was even, devoid of emotion; I supposed she had detached. I didn't have a problem with that. I was brought up believing that sex between husband and wife was an inconvenience that wives had to accept and what I had with Charles was a very simple act. I didn't know any different. What Guy did for me, with me and to me shattered my perceived ideas completely. I would find life very mundane if I could not experience that again." Sylvie got up and brought the coffee pot over."More?" Marion smiled her thanks.With their coffee replenished Sylvie came back to the subject."Who's fault was it? I mean not having children." Charles." Then it was rather selfish of him, wasn't it?" Yes and no. We were never a love-match. Our marriage is more of a rational merger. He needed a wife who he could trust at society functions, who could entertain his business associates, who knew how to behave. A wife who would keep his home well so that he didn't have to worry about clean socks, shirts etcetera. I was taught to do all of that. I was not brought up to work for.
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