Her hands pressed with her palms sweaty against the cool wall, seeking some reassurance, some purchase from which to spring a counter-attack. Yet she ...truggled to find words to fend off her attacker, failed to find any words that would deflect the maid from the inevitable conclusion she was mercilessly driving towards. How could she make this evidence seem innocent when she knew her own guilt? Her throat was constricting from fear and a feeling of entrapment, both physically against the wall. I could do nothing but agree with him and could hardly believe my ears when he instructed me to stand, remove my skirt and bend over his desk. The first thing he saw was the big wet spot on the chair and as he removed my thong he commented as to how soaked it was and then continued to say how pleased he was that I was so worked up because it would help latter. He walked around the desk looked into my eyes and while holding the cane so I could see it described how he was going to beat me, He. More

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