In my rage I had forgotten I still held the rods in my hand. One night at a pond I saw a guy trying to wrestle in a monster. His buddy was helping him...when the line snapped, and the rod whipped back. It him his friend right across the cheek, and the welt stayed there for the rest of the summer. People into inflicting pain should check out a rod. They’d probably throw every whip they owned away.He never expected it, who used a fishing rod as a weapon? I was either good or lucky, because my first. Three little glimpses of her self-willed arrogance... which, in her freedom, she could exercise to her heart's content.This is the same woman, we have seen, as the slave-girl, Belle. The slave-girl owned by Princess Karina, kept in the Palace of Quireme... the slave-girl Belle whose overseer is Miss Vesta... the slave-girl Belle, now in the charge of Hassan the Nubian.A fantastic transformation, it must be agreed. Let us see, in part at least, how it was achieved.Unbeknown to her, of course,. “Are you comfortable? Would you like to try a different position?”“Actually,” she said in a honeyed voice, “I can get myself off better this way.” Changing the tone of her response she murmured, “But if you want to do it that way Toby it’s cool with me.” It was like she had decided to give up control.After having listened so intensely to her story I tried to imagine how having all those men in Hanoi on top of her might have made her feel. Was it better for her to be on top? Taking to heart her. Slowly but surely he wore her resistances down and, to make it even more difficult, she wanted to be with him too. If she were completely honest to herself, then she had to admit that she had wanted to be with him since that first evening that he pulled her out of the rain, on the parking lot of the supermarket.She had felt completely lost at the time and, in her most vulnerable moment, he had come to her rescue. Since that day he hadn't disappointed her once. He may have slightly pushed her to.