The slap of My hand, the short flogger, the crop, a wooden spoon,all seeking out the same target. What was once pale white, soon becomes pink,then dee...er reds begin to appear, raised welts, and even hints of dark blues.She twists and dances, squirming to the staccato rhythms I perform. She singsout, accompanying Me. A duet? Or is it really a solo? Never does she try toduck or dodge, even though I have left her eyes uncovered. She sees/knows,accepts what is to come. Respites are frequent.. Brad woke up around ten, which was typical for him on a weekend. Also typical was finding Ms. Blossom working on her garden in the late morning hours. She was again hard at work on this hot morning, on her knees, planting, digging and sweating. She was wearing her normal garden work outfit consisting of tight black stretch pants, and a white t-shirt cut just above her waste. Brad speculated that she was in her mid 40’s, but she looked much younger. She had long, straight jet-black hair that was. More

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