Mia's Journey: An Erotic Thriller by John Rebell, Zee Ryan Page A

still hear her own cries of pain in her mind. Tears mixed with blood fell and splashed onto her cut legs. Mia was giving up, it was too much. She didn’t want to walk anymore.
    She didn’t want any more pain. Mia decided to just lay there. It meant some peace finally and some rest.
    Just when she felt like her despair was going to choke her, someone appeared. She couldn’t make out the face, but she could see a smile. The smile was warm, although she could tell it was hiding something.
    “Who’s there?”
    The faceless person held out a hand. Mia could tell now that it was a man. The man was faceless, except for the smile. He had no eyes, so she couldn’t read emotion.
    “Who are you?”
    This time the stranger spoke in a deep voice. Mia could just barely make out his words.
    “Mia, you can’t give up. You have help now, and you must keep fighting.”
    “I’m not strong enough.”
    “Yes, you are.”
    “I am surrounded by enemies that’ll hurt me. I can’t go back.”
    “Then go forward,” the voice said.
    The ghostly image still held out his hand. She started to take it when there was a flurry of motion. It was unclear what was whirling around them but it seemed dark and furious.
    Mia sensed it was dangerous and tried to turn to hide further into the tall grass. But the man pulled her up and then he was gone. He seemed to vanish into thin air. Just Mia’s unease and fear remained.
    Mia blinked rapidly and shook her head, trying to shed her dream. Finally, she was back in the present moment, watching Daddy sleep. She snuggled even closer to him deep in thought.
    Her fear was threatening to choke her.
    The only thing keeping it at bay was the man next to her, and she was putting him in danger.
     

“If time is not real, then the dividing line between this world and eternity, between suffering and bliss, between good and evil, is also an illusion.”
     
    Herman Hesse
     
     
    Chapter 22
     
    Daddy drifted up through several layers of sleep just enough to realize he was really horny. He was still drifting in half-sleep dreamland where he had some of the best sex dreams.
    His cock felt like it could reach across the room, and punch holes through the walls it was so hard. He remembered back in his early years, having his cock was such a pain in the ass. It never went down. It was such a constant pain and embarrassment.
    Nor did it help matters in the slightest he was oversexed to begin with.
    His teens were unbearable. He would sit in class and could swear he could smell female pheromones drifting in the air…and it drove him nuts. There were lots of cute girls in his school, many of them sexually active. Their bra less young titties bouncing and short flouncy dresses, revealing a hint of pantied ass every now and then, would send him to the “lav” to masturbate four or five times a day…just during school hours.
    His twenties and thirties weren’t much better. Sex was a major preoccupation, requiring massive amounts of time and money. He couldn’t stop himself from screwing any female who was interested.
     
    It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be faithful; it was that he couldn’t be.
     
    He didn’t make excuses; he knew he was a slut. He sincerely regretted the women he hurt. Being faithful was a complete joke. He just had to fuck anything that was female and had two legs. And women knew it.
    They knew he was completely helpless around them and at the whim of his dick. By his count, he lost at least a million dollars to them by the time he was thirty-five.
    In Asia, it wasn’t unusual to have sex five times a day. With a different woman each time. It didn’t help matters at all that he found Asian women completely irresistible. Or the fact that his “habits” were not unusual, or looked down on in the slightest.
    Women, of course, loved him for it, and then, eventually, hated him when they couldn’t keep him. They took one look at him and knew instinctively he liked them, and wanted to find