I want so much to scream out, to ruin this all by pleading for it all to end. My hands on the wood, worn smooth as leather with age and use, (I feel a... though placed in stocks). My buttocks shove themselves backward - I have no method of control, no illusion of resistance. My ankles are now digging their sides into the hard wood underneath the s**ttering of hay. They are planted, firmly, some three feet apart. My ears hear my lips shuddering together, the mouth inside trying to make words. . She stared blankly."Gods, do you watch anything good these days? I mean you're walking like you had a horse between your legs for the last few hours."She let out a little sigh as she took her change and glanced around, "Well how do you do it? Walk without... Crushing it?"He shrugged, "You women have a habit of crossing your legs when you step, just don't do that so much. Straight line, one in front of the other." One in front of the other... Thanks, I think."Turning she started to walk again. More

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