Twenty Three
“Pattie says you have more and more trouble walking, Thomas. Yet you request bastinado. Why do you think that is?”
The devilish Bai has me lying prostrate. Beneath my hips are the blocks which normally prop up my feet to receive the cane, thus I am held some eight inches above the bedroll. Cords run from my ankle bracelets to my neck collar, tightened to keep my knees bent and maintain a hogtied position. As always, my wrists remain secured to the waist belt.
In binding me, Bai instructed that I was to remain balanced on the blocks, not to tip forward and touch the bedroll with my face and chin, and not to tip back and touch the bedroll with my thighs and knees. I am also to keep my knees well parted.
This was all explained under the guise of fostering more discipline, to
