I can't read her expression but it changes and she reaches out and touches the wet clay of her likeness, rubs it then draws back to sniff her fingers....Very strange, she places her fingers in her mouth to tastes them. She breaths in deeply and sits on the stool I was sitting on with her fingers still in her mouth. Looking conflicted she scans the windows then the door. She drops her guard, pulls her fingers out of her mouth and puts them under the blanket between her legs. OH MY GOD!!! Is she. ”“When did you put it in?”“During the afternoon break.”“You were late.”“I’m sorry, I couldn’t get a cab.”“Ten minutes late.” As she spoke, she was walking around me and to a chest of drawers. Opening the top drawer, she took something out then turned to face me. It was the tawse. “Two strokes for each minute. You know what to do.” Her voice was flat, no emotion, no anger, no warmth.I lay on my back on the bed with my legs spread and my knees bent. She stroked my face and put a finger in my. More

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