Chapter Twenty
Coffee in the Den
Jim finally exploded, but not before lots of begging. I like that in a man, begging for release.
We recuperate in the den, sipping coffee as we watch Miss Evers work her pony girl. No question she has had a bucolic upbringing. In the corral she has placed various objects in a circle, a small stool, a number of firewood logs, some tools. She stands in the middle, whip in one hand, long training pole in the other. The latter is attached to the eyelet at the top of the bridle and as I have witnessed offers precise control... any slight motion of her wrist turning to upwards tension and painful jabbing of the nostril inserts.
She uses the pole to direct Christy round and round, wrists cuffed behind her back, making her hurdle the various objects, the jounc
