Guilt ridden, she wrote these words: I am a slave to the pain and taste, feel and touch of sex. I breathe humiliation being thrust upon me like a chil... being chastised. Will the Lord ever forgive me for this habitual transgression – this lust of the flesh? I feel as though I can’t shake it. Every time I think I want to let it go, I give in and give up and let the pain, not the dominant, act as my master. Will this internal struggle ever end for me? It calls out to me in the middle of the night. I noticed an entire contingent of men that had been literally scooped off the down-plank of a ship just arrived from Ireland and they all seemed jovial at finding employment without delay. I guess the prospect of bed and board and a bit of cash was a lot better than starving in a shape up line to work a manual labor job if you were lucky enough to be selected. Another odd group was a circle of dark-skinned fellows that must have just made it up to Union Territory on the Underground Railroad. More

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