Chapter Fifteen
Uli plucked another walnut from the dish beside her chair and crushed it in her fist. “Sing for me,” she said, as she separated the nutmeat from the shards of shell in her palm.
Shirley dangled in an ornamental iron cage, swaying from a chain in the center of the room. The floor of the cage was three feet in diameter. The domed top was four feet high. Shirley could neither stand nor lie down. She could kneel or sit, but both postures were uncomfortable with her hands cuffed behind her and the ubiquitous plug forcing her open. She was chafed and aching inside, and the intruder throbbed with every beat of her heart.
Shirley was a forlorn canary. She had been allowed out of the cage to use the bathroom twice a day. Every morning, she was flooded with hot soapy water, sodomi
