At last, her body undulated, and she raised her head, gasping. Her beaten breasts swayed, as her bruised ribs expanded. I pulled her hair, lifting h...r face, and put my wine flagon to her lips. She drank, and writhed her bruised body, her hips fixed by the wooden crossbar, her arms kept taut by the rope to the wall. I walked to her other end, where her bottom, raised high, and her widespread limbs, bore the overlapping welts from my exercise with the whip. Her cleft gaped, gleaming. She reached over, and stroked his leg softly. ‘He’s past us now. There’s nothing to worry about.’ ‘If he fucking jack knifes his trailer, we’re screwed. We probably won’t be able to get past him for hours, if not the rest of the day.’ ‘Well, try not to worry about that,’ advised Laurie, and then she racked her brain to think of something that might draw his attention away from the truck which had just passed them. ‘If there’s anything I hate more, it’s people who don’t know how to fucking. More

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