Chapter Eight
Finally Freedom
Days went by and nothing happened. I’d sit in my cell and read. Despite the fact that I wanted nothing to do with Tony Casals, he sent me books, as though that was the only way he could touch me from the other side. I threw them in the corner to start; but my months in the library awakened something more important than my rage, and reading was peace. It let my mind stop and my imagination begin.
I endured another five-day treatment, which was much like my first anal sessions. Master Jordon, not Pitlock this time, didn’t have to say the word surrender; it was already chiseled on my brain. Like switching gears in Daddy’s old truck, I switched mine turning into a wasted nothing. My ass was warmed and opened, and the channel shot deep with their tonic and I let
