It mixed wonderfully with the pain. The all consuming pain. The room, everything else, disappeared. The belt cracked across the tight denim, six, seve... times with a Crack! that ehoed round the room. By the seventh stroke my legs were dancing in the air and I was crying out like a banshee. Again, a Crack! and it seared a line of heat and pain across my backside. Inside, something was building, fast. But something was wrong. Jeff had stopped. I moaned. 'No, don't stop. Please.' I felt hands at. If something playing at the local playhouse sounded good, we would make plans to go together. I was sitting on the couch with Ron when I remembered it was my turn to get the tickets. I turned to Ron, “Pauline and I want to go and see ’Showboat’ at the Back Bay Theater. Can you go online and see what is available for next Saturday or Sunday night?”“Sure thing Mom, no problem.”I waited a few minutes and remembered Pauline wanted seats in the center but not too close to the stage, and Ron would. More

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