He had such an odd expression, she noted. He did not appear to be terrified in the same way the others were. At times, a brief half-smile seemed to tu... at the corners of his mouth. This one, she decided, would bear watching.Five 'ladders' were laid down. The men, with their arms bound behind them, were to squat onto the wooden pricks rising up. Similar to the women's torment, the men were expected to impale themselves on the dowels, taking them as deeply in their rectums as possible, and hold. “Is he to be blessed with wearing that when entertained by the rope? ... It would be so just, in symbolising the snuffing of his urges, as well as his life.” Constance smirked at her cruel humour, guessing that she already knew the answer was to be in the negative, but relishing indulging her audience at Creed’s expense.“Oh no, you’ll see what languishes within when he’s led to the gallows ... and you’ll see his pathetic lust to know it, his manhood raised in admission to it...” She looked down. So my mind was a mixture of all these things. I don’t know from where the twist in mind took place. I felt Meera as my companion and I used to share all incidents with her and she the vice versa. It was like that I work all 5 days and waited for the Saturdays to come, so that I can meet her. It was a transformation period from sisterly love to real love. The touch, feel everything had its own account in my life. She was in my heart. One year passed, she joined the college and it was then I got. I leaned down and brought my lips to hers and kissed her gently. She kissed me back and wiggled in closer. Then, rolling away from me, she opened herself up to my exploring hands. Gently my hand went up to her breast area, lightly touching, searching and fondling. She responded by rolling over onto her back. My hand found her breasts with its touch, first one then the other. Caressing them lightly then firmly, I mashed my hand onto her boobies and rubbed them almost raw. I finally.