?It's your choice young lady,? Marshall Dillon offered evenly.She looked around the room at these strange faces, thenreturned herattention to the Mars...all. Tears fell. ?I don't want to go to jail!? Shesniveled.?Then lean over Miss Kitty?s desk and let?s get this over with.?Slowly the dark haired dance hall girl nervously plodded toward the woodendesk and hesitated when she stood in front of it. Feeling trapped, shedaintily bent from the waist so that her ample cleavage pressed onto the topof. I had to clear my throat. Somehow every bit of saliva had been sucked out of my mouth into the surrounding air.She got up and I watched as she walked to the window. I had seen her walk from this place to that at least ten thousand times, but it had never been like this. Those breasts swayed and bounced.I suddenly realized that I was in my usual sleep attire ... my jockeys. I looked down and, in horror, saw that it looked like I had taken a wooden dowel and jammed it in my underwear, with one. More

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