Her cheeks burned.‘Come here, Jean.’Sometimes, the voice was tipsy. Swollen with fermented pride and pissed away frustrations. She was lucky then....Mead dulled the mind, and slowed one’s reflexes, making it easy to escape.She continued to scratch the wood, more intensely now. She didn’t notice, but her hands were beginning to draw upon the fire, her fingers sparkling with flames, drawing red tears of sap from the oak, her hands now autonomous.Today the voice was sober. And the voice was coming. “You are supposed to greet me cunt,” she said. And gave her another hard slap across the face. Tracy was now crying, tears running down her cheeks.“HHHHheeeellllllllooooo, Kim, Ma’am,” cried Tracy“Much better bitch,” said Kim, then turned to Linda asking, “Linda, do those two count, since the whore didn’t greet me properly?”“No,” said Linda, “you still have ten hits. And Tracy pet, don’t forget to count like you have been trained to do!”Kim laughed and picked up a willow switch. Raising it up,. More

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