Which was where Tammy's second problem came in. For Tammy had a nemesis. Mr. Critic. Oh, wicked Mr. Critic!Every time Tammy posted a new story, sure e...ough Mr. Critic would criticize it."Your spelling is atrocious," Mr. Critic would write, in his oh-so-proper way, "and you seem to have no grasp of conventional grammar, without the saving grace of true experiment. The plot is miniscule, the characters the thinnest cardboard, and the ending completely implausible. You can do better."Tammy felt. Some of them wereembarrassing. And some of them were ... the doctors commented on my ..."She blushed. "... on my advanced sexual activity." I wondered about that, too," I sighed. "I hoped you were takingprecautions." You spied on me?" She crossed the last few feet of my office and put bothhands on my desk. There was fire in her eyes."Look, Miluko -- it's my job to know what's going on here. The doctorsthought you were too hasty, too impulsive. They were worried about theanti-rejection drugs. I. As she disappeared round the corner her tight arse bouncing up & down on the horse I was having a fantasy wishing that was me she was bouncing on. Back to reality I continued my walk round the corner where in the distance I could see the horse rider again,she had dismounted & was taking her riding hat off & she sat on a fallen tree trunk & tied her horse to one of the branches of the fallen tree,I edged myself into the hedgerow that ran along the old railway line & I crept slowly forward. It. “By Carrie Horn or by me?” Melissa demanded to know.Miss Simons blushed again. “You please,” she said quietly looking at her desk squirming slightly in her chair as the thought of an impending stinging bottom sank in.“Right then, I will,” Melissa said getting up and going to the cupboard that housed the canes.Miss Simons was still too flustered to question how come Miss Curtis knew that was the correct cupboard as she was only thinking about the caning she was about to get.The thing was,.