“Have a class next hour?”“No.”“Well, I do,” she said, “and it’s far.” And it was the first day, which sometimes determined seating. ...he was meeting Bret there. “Walk with me.”“So, what did I do?”“You didn’t do anything.” For example, he had sent hardly any e-mails. She shouldn’t complain about that, though. She wanted to have met Bret. “It’s what I did. I moved on. I have a new guy.”“Does he know about me?”“Not you in particular. He knows he wasn’t my first.”“Wasn’t your first?” he asked. “You. He threw the other end of the rope over a beam above us and began pulling the rope, lifting Sharon’s arms above her head as he did. He then tied the free end of the rope to one of the posts supporting the beam. I had to admit Sharon looked stunning. With every deep breath she took I could see her hard nipples straining against the silky material of her half-open blouse. She looked helpless yet when I looked into her eyes I could also sense she somewhat enjoyed her situation. Temporarily. He made a note of it. Dropping the girl's ankle, he began to swat her ass with the belt. First he used the leather end, but he quickly switched to the buckle end. It made a loud slapping sound as it bounced off the girl's smooth young skin, a sound that was inevitably followed, like an echo, by a high-pitched shriek. The belt struck again and again, lashing out almost on its own accord, independent of its owner. Like a striking snake it bit deep into the girl's flesh, leaving red gashes in the. ‘He’s told you a lot about me, I guess,’ I say, feeling a little gloomy now. I don’t really feel comfortable with Edwin telling his daughter things that I thought I was telling him in confidence. ‘Not everything,’ she says. I figure she’s implying all the stuff about prison. ‘I had a whole different life,’ I say, hoping that she won’t dig any deeper. ‘Is it hard to move on like this?’ ‘Moving on? I wouldn’t call it that,’ I say, aware that there’s a shade of bitterness in my voice. ‘What do you.