He tossed me on my bed like I was a worthless ragdoll and not even worthy of being in his presence. As I lay there stunned by the events that had just...transpired my dad looked me over one more time with that hateful look of coldness along with a new emotion, lust. He told me to strip, but I didn’t comply, I was still thinking to myself “this can’t be happening my dad would never do this to me...he loves me..right?” the sad fact is that I had to try and convince myself that my own father loved. Since I retired early, there was no job to worry about and I had virtually no family left. I wanted to do this at night, starting at around 6pm and finishing around midnight. For Phase I, the torture and mutilation of my body, I had bought and installed a large floor to ceiling mirror on one wall. It was 8 ft wide. The former loft, now the Death Room, was very well lit with large windows at both ends. For both Phase I and II, I would be able to see everything in a mirror. I wanted my body to be. More

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