One afternoon I was lazing around in the hut when Olli came in and whispered, “Greg's tossing himself off!“ I‘d had my headphones in so I hadn't...heard a thing, but when l listened. it was pretty obvious that's what he was doing. Typical of Olli's dirty mind and sense of humour he said we should give Greg a bit of "wank fuel" — and as he was already stroking me through my bikini bottoms, I didn't say no. He rubbed me through the fabric then pulled them sideways so he could get his fingers in my. His heart was certainly no longer in it, if it ever was considering all of the evidence.It was part of the prosecutors plan to leave the jury with the emotional trauma being put on a woman and her child by the defendant.So it went for Monday with the prosecutor presenting his case.Calling all of the investigators to testify, one of the last was the crime scene photographer. He introduced "twenty-seven, eight-by-ten color glossy pictures, with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of. Everything was placed in three large bags and I paid the bill. I even slipped the clerk a fifty-dollar bill as a tip and told her that we would probably return to her shop.The girls insisted on me taking them to Old Navy to look for skimpy shorts and skirts. I was very glad that I did. The selection there was great and they sure looked good in them. Jasmine and Abigail talked about possible shortening most of their purchases. They asked for a pair of scissors and to the cringe of the salesgirl. But gradually Frederica had won the Warrior Slave over.The Lady Fortescue pitied Frederica for being alone and away from her love. She allowed Francine's visits to Frederica to become more and more frequent until things were exactly as they had been before that month in the dungeon. Even the nightly whippings were greatly reduced. Frederica couldn't stand her lover having such a sore and red back. Francine was getting soft again.I say 'soft again' because even before her last spell of torture.