Chapter Nine
I am fortunate in being able to move my legs... somewhat. Drawing my feet closer together from the awkward split which Miss Beatrice insisted upon, the stool still inhibits some movement.
But sitting forcibly upright is wearing and my eyes continue to water from the discomfort of the nose clip. My testicle chain has no slack. Therefore I cannot stand. Tears stream forth and in the darkness thoughts of the insouciant callousness of my tormentress begin to make an impression. Miss Beatrice was very thorough and it dawns on me that over time and given her propensity for pain... slow, intense and unrelenting pain... there was not much I would not tell her. The board near the cell door cannot be seen in the dim light. But its image haunts... adorned with many small but remarkably
