But I did not want to be a slave. If it was indeed my fate, I wondered if it was Mike who should break me. He was so gross. But so very male.... Ther... was no trial. But there was a sentencing. Each girl should learn her losson! Julie´s agony must be shared. It was in the big hall. Two lines of naked girls. Each variously chained. None free. In the centre the prisoner without defense, hands still cuffed behind her back. It was but a little while since she had toiled up the beach. Beyond her the. What I discovered, however, was that his furtive fumblings and obvious self-gratification in the confessional were almost absent unless I was ‘confessing’ about young men, and slowly the truth opened its wide jaws; Father Oliver was fantasising about cocks, rather than the nubile, playful sixteen year old who was lying her heart out about them. I wasn’t in any way disappointed, although the discovery of this kernel of reality precipitated phase two. This particular phase demanded the exercise. More

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