Chapter Five

She spent half an hour doing exercises designed to strengthen her ankle, and promised to do more of them in future. Daniel seemed to know a lot about muscles and bones. Then he watched as she walked carefully out to the living room. He glanced at his watch.

“Briefing should be finishing about now,” he said, picking up the console and turning the screens on. “Patrick or I usually allocate tasks first thing in the morning, but on Tuesdays we do it late, straight after the show,” he explained. “Or, if both of us are occupied, Russ does it.”

”The exercise Nazi,” Jessie said. The one Patrick had used as a red herring this morning, letting her think he’d been her secret lover. Daniel, the one who really had been, flashed a quick grin at her.

“Very apt,” he said. “So, where are we? There. This is the one I want to see and hear.” One of the side screens immediately invaded all of its neighbours, and they were looking into the dining area, where all of the dazzlers sat, stood and sprawled around comfortably, a dark-clothed group of indecently attractive masculinity. She counted. Yes, there were nineteen of them. The only one missing was currently beside her.

“The guards watch over all of the prisoners while briefing is occurring,” Daniel said, seeing her count.

Only two people in the room were dressed in other than the black uniform, and one of them was Patrick, standing at the front of the room in his dark jeans and blue t-shirt. The other was the shortie-clad redhead Jessie recognised from the Admissions centre: the one who had been left until last and had abused and struggled against the guards. It seemed she hadn’t learned how to control her temper yet, because she was currently, very unwisely, trying to argue with Patrick. King Dazzler was leaning against a wall, arms folded, and with a smile on his face. Based on her limited acquaintance with him, Jessie already knew he was at his most dangerous when smiling like that. The sound came through.

“…my assistant, do you understand that? My assistant! He was the gopher who fetched me my coffee and did all of the shit work. Of course I was not going to let him have my body as his plaything. It is insane and obscene.” Maria Petrina was all but spitting the words, with just the hint of an Italian accent coming through. She had been very upset when the guards in the Holding Room had exposed her to the crowds, but now she was looking angry and affronted rather than upset. She also looked as if what she was saying should be self-evident to everyone. Patrick, on the other hand, was looking at her as if she was a rather amusing little bug. He didn’t speak for a full minute.

“Strip and display, Petrina,” he said, moving away from the wall. Her face flamed and her jaw set, but this was one order, it seemed, that she’d learned to obey. She took the shortie off, dropped it, and put her hands behind her neck, shifting her feet apart. Every dazzler was staring straight at her. Jessie squirmed and looked away.

“If you knew the things she did to her staff, you wouldn’t feel so bad for her,” Daniel said, noticing her discomfort.
”It doesn’t make this right,” Jessie said. “I know that sounds naïve, but I believe it.”
”You think prison would have been better?”

“I think at least she wouldn’t have had to expose herself like this, hand over her right to have some say in who touched her, or…why are you smiling like that?”

“Every time she had a visitor, every time she was shifted from one part of the prison to another, she would have been strip-searched, often cavity-searched,” he said. “She would almost certainly have been in with long-term prisoners, including lifers, who have nothing to lose by terrorising, sexually assaulting, beating up, and doing permanent damage to fresh meat like her. Yes, she’d have had more clothes, and no, she probably wouldn’t have been expected to give her body to men, but don’t for a minute think that she’d have had any more independence or control over herself in a prison than she has here. And she’d have been there for years, not just for a month. She didn’t just bully her staff. She stole their entitlements and she harassed them mercilessly.” Jessie said nothing.

“Petrina, Petrina, Petrina,” Patrick said. “You are in here because you were arrogant and bossy and because you took criminal advantage over the people who worked for you. You’ve been here almost two days, and still you’re exhibiting the same behaviour.”
”I am NOT,” she said. “I am just…” Patrick took one step closer and she stopped speaking.

“In here, you have nothing to be arrogant about,” he said. “You are just another prisoner, one for us to display, disport with and use as we see fit. Last night you were offered the opportunity to earn fifty points by physically and sexually pleasing a man you used to regularly humiliate and, on occasions, throw things at. And you refused.”

”Yes, of COURSE I ref-” The words dried up as Patrick’s hand clamped firmly across her mouth.

“I really would not speak again if I were you,” he said, and the look in those famous blue eyes of his chilled Jessie, even long-distance. “Not unless you want to end up serving drinks to the crowds all day today, dressed just as you are at present, with a tray tied around your neck and your hands tied behind your back. Like that image, Petrina?” The woman shook her head. “Very sensible,” he said. “Because although we do try to make sure that nothing untoward occurs, that no-one in the crowd takes advantage of your utter helplessness, it’s impossible to completely control. Particularly since I wouldn’t be able to spare a guard to watch over you. Going to stay silent now?” She nodded as much as she could with his hand on her mouth.

“Good girl,” he said, taking his hand away. “Now, what to do with you, Petrina? Well, for a start, we’ll take two hundred points off you.” Her eyes widened in shock. Her mouth opened too, but no sound came out. “You do understand how the points system works, don’t you?” She nodded.

“Good,” he said. “So you know that if you don’t score at least three hundred points by the time you leave here, you will spend an additional month working as a bonded, naked household slave, performing menial and all sorts of other tasks in the home of one of your victims. I wonder if you can guess which victim it will be?” The look in Petrina’s eyes made it quite clear that she knew the man she’d rejected the night before would be the lucky one.

“And now,” Patrick continued. “You have five hundred points to score rather than three hundred. Dear me. It’s going to be fun crawling around cleaning floors in the nude with Clifton Hunter watching your every move, isn’t it?” She sniffed. “But I’m not completely heartless.” Jessie snorted. Daniel grinned.
”Not completely,” he agreed. “He’s pretty damn close, but not completely.”

“Would you have done this?” she asked. He nodded.

“I’d have smacked her butt by now, too. He’s being much nicer than I would have been, but he comes up with very imaginative punishments, I have to say.”

“So, I’m going to have a special card made up, just for you, Petrina,” Patrick continued, walking around her and make a point of looking her naked body over from all angles. “It will have two hundred squares on it, a hundred on each side, and it will hang on a chain around your neck, along with a pen. You’re going to have your arms tied behind you, and you’re going to be wearing a lovely little piece of equipment called a spreader bar that will keep your legs nice and wide and will make it a tad difficult for you to walk. And I’m afraid that that’s all you’re going to be wearing all day.” Petrina swallowed, looking angry again.

“And you are going to be wandering the fence line today,” Patrick went on. “Asking crowd members to either touch, kiss or lick your breasts, or to play with your butt.” She gasped. “Every person who does one of those things then gets the chance to tick one of the squares on your card. Of course, they may choose not to, and there’s nothing you’ll be able to do about that, so you’ll have to ask very nicely, won’t you? Oh, and if you’re rude to any of them, or if you go for five minutes without having someone touch you, the dazzler who’s with you will rub off the last five marks on your card. Understand?”

“Damn, he’s good,” Daniel said.
”Good is not the word for it,” Jessie said, feeling sick inside. That proud woman was going to have to have the touch of a stranger on intimate parts of her body at least every five minutes, or she was going to spend a long, humiliating day losing points rather than gaining them.

“Understand?” Patrick asked. Petrina understood, alright.

“This it outrageous!” she said, losing control of her temper. A ripple of laughter went through the dazzlers. Patrick grinned behind her back, but when he stepped forward, his face was once more impassive.

“You just made it two hundred and fifty instead of two hundred,” he said. She froze, face red and mouth a thin line. She jumped as his hands touched her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. “That’s a lot of groping, Petrina,” he said. “Want to go for three hundred instead?” She opened her mouth, then thought better of it and shook her head. “Oh, and one other thing,” he added, almost as an afterthought. He reached down and ruffled her pubic hair. “To help you to control that temper, you’re not allowed to speak at all today, so you’re going to have to invite all those people to help you score points with body language instead.”

Her eyes widened as she realised the implications of that. She was going to have to shake the appropriate parts and make licking and kissing motions, or turn around and wriggle her fingers at them to signify what they could do. And getting them to understand that they had to then fill in a square on the card was going to be well nigh impossible. She looked pleadingly at Patrick.

“Learn some humility, Petrina,” he said. “And by the way, your visitor will be back to see you tonight.” With that, he shifted his hand, patted her on her backside and signalled one of the dazzlers, who smiled, stood up, and walked over to collect his charge for the day.

“I really don’t like him,” Jessie said.

“Adam?” Daniel said. “I don’t think you’ve met him, have you?”
”Not him,” Jessie dismissed the auburn-haired dazzler who was even now running his hands all over Petrina while she wriggled and squirmed. “Although I’m quite sure I wouldn’t like him either. I meant Patrick.”
”He’s good at his job,” Daniel said. “I’d have made her earn points by posing for photographs with crowd members, but his way is better. There’ll be enough photographs of her circulating anyway.” Jessie remembered the way her friend Angela’s face tightened whenever the trade in Shame Institute photographs taken by crowd members included some of her. It never stopped. There were always hundreds, sometimes thousands of photographs available of the humiliation and shame of every woman who’d been through the Institute.

On the screen, the briefing had broken up, and dazzlers were heading off in different directions, like the imps of hell, set on tormenting their chosen victims for the day.

“Where do you find them?” she asked Daniel.

“The dazzlers? All sorts of places. We have a lot of professionals amongst them, including a chemist, a dentist, a few lawyers, even an accountant. Basically, they have to be good-looking, physically imposing, with a high IQ, a high EQ and the…”
”EQ?” she asked.

“Emotional Quotient,” he explained. “The ability to know and control your own emotional responses and those of other people. It’s more than that, but that’s close enough. They also have to be fit and healthy and not have any psychological conditions. We test them exhaustively. Ideally, they should have a good sense of humour as well.”

“And of course, they have to dislike women,” Jessie said. She’d had this conversation with Jake already, but was not convinced on the subject.

“Dislike women?” Daniel made it sound as if she’d said ‘dislike breathing’. “Where would you get that idea? They all have to have a strong sense of justice and they all have to be prepared to do some intense and at times unpleasant things in order to exercise that justice, but there’s not one dazzler who doesn’t like women.” Jessie shook her head.

“So how can they, how can YOU do what you do to them?” she demanded.

“These women are tough,” Daniel said simply. “They need one hell of a rude shock to set them right. We provide the shock.”
”Out of the goodness of your hearts and a commitment to the welfare of these women,” she said sarcastically. He was obviously enjoying this argument.
”No, because we’re paid obscenely well, and because we have a commitment to the welfare of society,” he countered. She gave up.

The call came before lunch time, and Daniel passed the good news on immediately.

“He’s cleared your name,” he said to Jessie, now seated in the living room again, her ankle re-wrapped and elevated. ”How did he do that?” she asked. She’d spent months trying to do it and Jake Miller had managed it in a day?

“It was as much good timing as good contacts,” he said, sitting down opposite her and stretching his long legs out in front of him. “The driver of the car behind yours resurfaced yesterday.”

“He did?” Jessie sat up straight, lowering her feet to the floor.

“Put your ankle back up,” he said. “Go on, do it, or I won’t tell you any more.” Patrick wasn’t the only bossy one around here, it seemed. Jessie put her foot back up.

“The driver was a woman,” Daniel said. He glanced at his watch. “In fact, let’s see.” He aimed the console at the screens, and all of them came into life, a giant television screen. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s one of the lead stories.” The noon news had started, and one of the anchors was finishing off a story about some casualties in the latest war in Africa.

“Tell me,” Jessie insisted.
”Just wait,” Daniel insisted. Another story started, about an indiscretion by a female politician. Her picture came up on the screen.
”A future guest, perhaps,” Daniel said. Then the picture faded and another replaced it, of a little, elderly woman. “I think this is it,” he said.

“Debra Jones, a sprightly seventy-six year old, has come out fighting in defence of Jessica Porter, the special needs teacher who was sent to the Shame Institute only two days ago,” the female anchor said. “Ms Jones, a mother of six and grandmother of seventeen, was horrified when she found out that Jessica had been convicted of hitting Wendell Burroughs, nephew of Judge William Burroughs.” The screen filled with a picture of the irate Ms Jones.

“Pack of nonsense!” she said. “I was there and I saw it. The boy just rode straight into her car, and the poor girl had an accident after it.”
”And why didn’t you stop to help, Debra?” asked a male interviewer.

“I would have!” she insisted. “But I was on my way to the airport. One of my grandsons, Brett Donohue, fell off a mountain he was climbing and we all had to get there because they didn’t think he was going to make it.”
”And did he?”
”Yes, he did. He’s a tough lad and he’s strong, and if he climbs any more mountains, I’ll kill him myself,” his loving grandmother said. “But anyway, since I was there, I stayed for a couple of months with my daughter. Got back day before yesterday. I’m still jet-lagged, but the first thing I saw was a picture of the women being admitted to that place, and some information on what they’d done. I wasn’t sure it was the accident I’d seen, but I wanted to be sure. I rang that judge right away, I can tell you.”

”And what did the judge say?” the interviewer asked. Ms Jones snorted.

“Useless man,” she said. “He suggested that I may not have a good recollection of what happened. I suspect I have a better memory than he does. Anyway, I rang a few more people, and one of them must have rung that Miller man, because he contacted me this morning and next thing I knew, people were listening.”

“Jake Miller? The Governor of the Shame Institute?” the interviewer confirmed.

“That’s the one,” Debra Jones said. “And I don’t know who he talked to, but it worked, and now the poor girl is being let out, which is only right. Poor girl. I feel terrible that she went through all of that just because my silly grandson decided to fall off a mountain.”

“Do you have anything to say to Judge Burroughs?” the interviewer stirred a bit more.

“Not a thing,” the woman said. “But you tell those two boys, the good-looking ones who run that program late at night – what are their names? Prince something?”
”King Dazzler and The Cat?” the interviewer offered.
”That’s them,” she beamed. “You tell them that if they need someone to play with instead of that poor little girl, they can take me on. See how that pretty cat boy goes trying to play with someone who’s got some claws of her own.” Daniel was laughing as he turned the television off, but he stopped when he looked at Jessie.

“I’m sorry that you went through this,” he said. “And you can rest assured that Jake will take steps to have Judge Burroughs hauled over the coals. From what he said, it appears that evidence was falsified.”
”It’s a pity Judge Burroughs isn’t an attractive, unattached woman aged eighteen to forty, isn’t it?” Jessie said bitterly.
”Yes,” Daniel agreed steadily. “It is.”

The Governor arrived back in the afternoon to find Jessie still wearing his shirt and Daniel watching the screens in the living room. She limped over to him as soon as he walked in the door. She held out her hand.

“Thank you,” she said, and even though he’d embarrassed her and left her in a difficult situation, she said it from the heart.

“No thanks are necessary,” he said, but he shook her hand anyway. “I see your wardrobe has improved. Italian shirts now.”
”Patrick gave it to me,” she said.
”He always was free with my things,” the Governor smiled. “Everything alright, Daniel?”

”All looking fine,” he replied. “Do you need me to do anything, or will I get back to work?”
”You can go back,” the Governor said. “But…just give us a minute, Jessica.” She noted his use of her first name, but didn’t say anything as the two tall, dark-haired men went outside. When the door opened again, the Governor came in alone. It seemed that Daniel wasn’t even going to say goodbye. Well, for a man who’d shared as many beds as he had, there probably wasn’t the need for those sorts of niceties, she supposed.

“Mr Miller, I really do want to thank you,” she tried again.

“Jake,” he said. “Call me Jake. And I meant it, Jessica. It’s not necessary. You should never have been sent here. Even if you had hit that boy deliberately, you shouldn’t have been here. That would normally get you sent to prison, not to the Institute, and if Judge Burroughs hadn’t intervened inappropriately, it would never have happened.”
”What’s going to happen to him now?” she asked.
”I’ll have his job for it,” Jake said calmly, and she didn’t doubt him at all. He wielded enough power to unseat several judges if he wanted to.

“But even so,” she said. “You didn’t have to go to all of that trouble for me, and you did.”

”Sit down,” he said, walking over to one of the chairs and doing just that. “Even before you arrived, I was concerned about you. A friend of yours, an Angela Myers, contacted me while your trial was on and asked me to look into it. I did, but the evidence against you looked bad. I wasn’t at all sure why you were being sent here, but when I saw your photograph, I decided not to intervene.” He smiled. “That was a strange sort of compliment, by the way.” She didn’t thank him, but she nodded.

“Anyway, when you arrived, when you were limping, I decided to act on my instincts and find out a bit more about you. And the more I found out, the more I reached the opinion that Ms Myers was correct and you had no place here.”
”So why did you undress me and do all of that other stuff?” she asked, embarrassed but curious.
”Partly to see how you’d react,” he said. “And partly because I still wasn’t totally sure that you shouldn’t be here, so I was hedging my bets.” Which was exactly what Patrick had guessed, she remembered.

“You had so much pity in your eyes for the prisoners,” he said. “You might be surprised to know that none of them usually feel pity for each other. There’s this thing we do sometimes. We tie them together naked, hands and feet, and put them in a circle. Whenever we do that, we can see just how much they care about each other. We make sure that for each woman in the circle there is a spectator who she really, really doesn’t want to appear naked in front of. We leave enough slack in the ties that if they cooperate, two women at a time can cover themselves, and we put them on a dais that circles slowly, giving them plenty of time to take turns. But they never do. The strongest ones in the group grab the slack, and the others gang up on them and rip it off them. And every one of them ends up being completely exposed to everybody there.”

“You have the most diabolical imaginations here,” Jessie shook her head, horrified. “Who thought of that?” Jake smiled.

“That’s not something you have to worry about any more,” he said. “Suffice to say that the way you reacted to other women’s suffering was not indicative of the norm here. I’d already decided by the afternoon of the first day that it was very unlikely that I was going to put you in the Institute. But now, I’m afraid I have a more pressing need I have to address.”
”You do?” she asked. He nodded, and his blue eyes twinkled, reminding her, just for an instant, of Patrick. Mischief was obviously a common thread among the men here.
”Coffee,” he said. “I’ve had a difficult day, and I really must have coffee.”

Some time later, he left again, mentioning something about clothes for her. Jessie was pleased about that idea, but wondered why, when he’d just used the console or telephone to order everything else, he had to go in person to look after this. Then, five minutes after he left, the front door opened and Patrick walked in.

“Hey, baby doll,” he said, bending to kiss her, his lips firm on hers. “I hear you’re leaving us.”
”You heard correctly,” she said. “So hands off!” That was because he’d reached around her, his long fingers already playing with her backside through Jake’s shirt. He laughed.

“You’re no fun,” he said. “And to think we came all the way down here to give you a treat.”
”We?” Jessie asked.

“We,” Patrick repeated, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Come on in, gentlemen.”

Jessie’s eyes widened as three men walked in, first of all the Nordic blonde who’d supervised the BB game, then the other surfer-type, the one who’d run the exercise classes – Russ, the one Patrick had hinted had spent the night with her. Just as she was catching her breath from that, Daniel strolled in, sleek and gorgeous. Amused at Jessie’s reaction, Patrick performed the introductions.

“Eric and, Russ, this is Jessie Porter, or, as I like to call her, baby doll.”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, trying to force herself to meet the eyes of the two blonde men.

“Baby doll?” Eric repeated. “I’ve never seen a figure like that on a baby doll.” Jessie went to cross her arms over her breasts, checked herself, and then realised that she could damn well do it if she pleased. Eric grinned as she gave in to the temptation.

“Why are you here?” she demanded of them all, but mostly of Patrick and Daniel.

“To say goodbye,” Patrick said, as if it should have been obvious.

“Goodbye,” she said, and turned away. They all laughed.

“We thought we’d make it a bit more special than that,” Patrick said. Jessie turned back, her eyes widening.
”Whatever it is, no!” she insisted. The mischief in their eyes told her that she was not going to like this at all. “Patrick, I mean it! I’m not a prisoner any more. I’m free, and you’re not entitled to do anything to me.”
”She talks too much,” Russ said.

“She does,” Patrick agreed, grinning as Jessie exhaled loudly. Then she gasped as his hands closed firmly on her upper arms. “Time for a nice, sensual experience, Jessie,” he said.

“No!” she said again. “No! Daniel, help!” He said nothing, just smiling in that infuriating Cat style of his.

“Sssssh,” Patrick soothed from behind her. “Too much talk, baby doll. Just let yourself go and enjoy the experience. Now take that shirt off.”

“I will not!” she protested immediately. Russ’s eyebrows went up and Eric laughed.

“I’m allowed to say no,” she pointed out. Russ grinned.

“I’m just not used to hearing it from a woman,” he said. Jessie didn’t say anything, because he was undoubtedly telling the truth. Even outside of the Institute, no woman was likely to say no to anything Russ wanted of her. With an athlete’s body and a face that could sell anything to anyone, he was the sort who brought the word “yes!” springing to a woman’s lips, immediately after the word “yum” had occupied them.

“If you want anything done, it seems that you have to do it yourself,” Patrick said. At that, his strong hands tightened on her arms. And then, in an act of utter betrayal, Daniel’s long fingers were skimming down the buttons of Jake’s shirt, undoing it.

“No!” Jessie protested again, struggling. She knew it was pointless. Any one of these men could effortlessly overpower her on their own; against four of them she was less than no chance at all. She’d seen several of them carry women around as if they weighed nothing. But she still protested. “Why are you doing this?”

“You’ll enjoy it,” Daniel’s green, feline eyes looked into hers. “And you deserve a good send-off.” She wriggled and strained against the hands that held her as he slipped the shirt down her arms, revealing her to them all.

“Lovely,” Eric said. Russ just looked, with a smile on his face.

“I said you’d be popular,” Patrick reminded her, his hands now clasped around her waist. “Didn’t I?”

“I don’t want to be popular,” Jessie said between clenched teeth. She was actually too annoyed to be all that ashamed of her nudity in front of four men who each saw scores of naked women every day, but the flush on her face was doing double-duty. “I want to be dressed.”
”All in good time, baby doll,” Patrick assured her. “Now, over to the table, I think.” She renewed her struggles.

“Ssssh,” it was Daniel this time, and he took her from Patrick, swinging her up into his arms. “We won’t hurt you, Jessie,” he said. “We would never hurt anything as pretty as you.” Even with her bundled against his chest, he moved with a cat-like grace. He also moved with cat-like speed, and before she could form a reply to that, Jessie was on the table, the men moving around her to hold her down and secure her in place. Patrick drew her arms up above her head, pinning one wrist in place as Daniel reached for and held the other. Jessie had found her voice again and was taking extreme exception to this, but she needn’t have bothered. Eric drew one of her legs down and Russ the other, each of them holding one of her knees in place.

“Beautiful,” Daniel murmured, looking down at her body, arms up, legs together. He smoothed one hand down her belly, his hand warm on her skin. Embarrassed and angry, Jessie wriggled some more, and glared at all of them.

“Be careful with her ankle,” Patrick cautioned. “Daniel, would you like to begin?”

“Of course,” Daniel smiled down at Jessie. “I wish I’d thought to bring my brushes with me.”

“Why?” Jessie demanded. “What are you…no! Don’t do that!” It was too late. His fingertips were already dancing lightly over her ribs and up to her breasts, circling, tickling, the lightest, most teasing of touches on her sensitive skin. She was giggling within seconds. When Patrick leaned in and started tormenting her armpits, she squealed loudly, prompting laughter from all of them. And when Eric and Russ reached down and started on the soles of her feet, she got really loud.

She couldn’t see a clock, and wouldn’t have been able to through the moisture in her eyes, so Jessie had no idea how long the tickling went on. The two blonde men worked their way from her feet up and down her legs, occasionally tickling into her pubic hair, but taking no liberties other than that. Patrick alternated between her armpits and neck. Daniel, the expert, focused all of his attention on her breasts, smiling as she struggled, abused, pleaded and cursed at them.

“What a lot of noise,” Jake said as he came in. All four sets of hands slowed down as they turned to look at the Governor. Jessie, her chest heaving, felt a flood of relief, even if she was naked in front of yet another man now.

“Oh thank heavens,” she said. “Make them let me go, Jake!” He walked across the room silently, taking his own sweet time about it, and stood beside Daniel, looking down at her, his blue eyes warm on her. Then he grinned.

“Why would I stop them when I’m the one who asked them to do it?” he said. As her mouth opened in surprise, he went on. “I don’t know,” he said. “Some women are never happy. You have the undivided attention of my top four dazzlers and you’re complaining?” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “As you were, gentlemen,” he said. Jessie was shrieking even as they all laughed and started again.

Of course Jake’s presence made it so much worse. As the insistent torment of the tickling went on, he watched, smiling.

“Have you tried tongues yet?” he asked conversationally.

“What a good idea,” Patrick approved, and Jessie’s futile struggles increased as they all bent down and began applying themselves to driving her mad. Warm, wet tongues between the toes were enough on their own to cause insanity, and the circling both Patrick and Daniel were doing on her armpits, moving inwards to her nipples, was tipping her over the edge. And that was even before Daniel shifted, leaving Patrick to pin and torment the top half of her body on his own. He walked around, stopping between Eric and Russ, who each took one of her knees and gently but firmly drew her legs apart. Daniel bent down, grinning as she guessed at his intent and all but screamed her objection. Slowly, he leaned forward and licked into her, his fingers searching and just as teasing as they had been on her breasts.

It was sensory overload - uncomfortable and embarrassing and divinely tormenting. Pinned helpless and open on the table, Jessie could do nothing but gasp. They made sure to ease off enough to allow her to breathe, but that was all they did, each man applying himself totally as the object of their attentions squirmed, her skin coated in sweat, her head going back as the heat Daniel built in her groin spread to her belly and higher. Finally, her nerve endings on fire, her throat closing with the tension, she came, a crashing orgasm that sent her rocking, her body pulsing, back arching, breath sobbing out of her. The tickling stopped.

Lying still, sated and spent on the table, Jessie looked around at them, at the men who’d just conspired to give her the second most mind-blowing orgasm of her life. Daniel on his own still held the record for the most extreme.

“If you do that again, I’ll die,” she managed, setting them all off into laughter. Eric abandoned his post by her left foot and walked up to the side of the bench, bending to kiss her, his lips warm and soft. Russ followed him, lingering for an instant longer on her mouth.

“Pity we didn’t get to play with you for longer,” he said, trailing a hand over her stomach.

“Real pity,” Daniel agreed. When he bent to kiss her, the taste of her was on his tongue. “I’d have enjoyed you,” he said. At the look on her face, he laughed again, but this time it was that soft, low laugh she remembered. Jessie’s eyes met his. Unseen by anyone but her, The Cat smiled and winked before he straightened up. He already had enjoyed her, and, she had to admit, she’d enjoyed him.

“They would all have zeroed in on you in the Institute,” Patrick assured her. “As would I, of course. Goodbye, baby doll. Have a nice life.” He made no pretence of a quick kiss. His was long, expert and deep, with tongue action and lots of it. Daniel wasn’t the only one who knew how to kiss. His lips were wet when he straightened up. “Come back and visit us,” he said.

“No,” she replied, and she heard his laughter as he went after the others. Jake handed her his shirt and looked away as she unsteadily put it on.

“You shouldn’t have done that!” she said. She almost pointed out that it was sexual assault. The trouble was, her body was still humming happily from the orgasm. The Governor smiled as he turned back.

“Consider it a goodbye present,” he said. “I know it was unorthodox, but I thought I’d give you something to remember.” Well, he’d certainly done that.

…………………

Jessie Porter, who’d arrived only two days before in a too-short t-shirt, humiliated and in pain, left the Shame Institute dressed to the nines in new clothes Jake had purchased for her, and was reborn as an instant celebrity. Reporters were waiting outside her small house when the black limousine she’d been sent home in arrived and microphones were shoved in her face.

“Did they strip you, Jessica?” someone yelled out.

“Did you go through the Display Yard?” someone else asked insistently from beside her. More questions were asked and called and yelled, and Jessie was looking round frantically for an escape when it arrived in the form of Angela.

“Let her through, you bastards!” the tall woman with the short brown hair and big brown eyes bellowed, fighting through and clearing a path. She took hold of Jessie, hugging her tightly while camera flashes went off around them. “Oh Jessie, it’s so good to see you,” she said. “Now let’s get away from here.” She all but punched her way back to the house, dragging Jessie with her.

Even with the front door shut behind them, they could hear the noise outside, and Jessie was shocked.

“I can’t believe this,” she said, as Angela shut all of the blinds and curtains.

“Someone escaped the Shame Institute,” she said. “That’s big news. Particularly when you should never have been sent there in the first place.”
”Thank you for contacting Jake,” Jessie said. “Before I forget. You didn’t tell me you’d contacted him.” She knew how hard that had to have been for Angela, given her memories of her own month in the Institute.

“I didn’t think it had worked,” Angela admitted. “So I didn’t say anything. You call him Jake?” Jessie nodded.

“He moved heaven and earth to clear my name,” she said. “Although as Daniel said, the timing was very fortunate with Debra Jones coming back when she did. It would have been even nicer if she’d come back before I was sent there, of course.”
”Daniel said?” Angela repeated. “Daniel, as in The Cat?” Jessie nodded.

“Jake left me with Patrick on the first day, and then Daniel stayed with me on the second day,” she explained, leaving out that Daniel had stayed with her overnight as well. Some things she wasn’t quite ready to share yet. The goodbye tickling was another of them.

Angela was looking surprised, even shocked. Her big hazel eyes were open even wider than usual.

“Patrick?” she repeated. Jessie nodded.

“King Dazzler,” she said. Angela nodded back, impatient.

“I know who he is,” she said. “You spent time with Patrick?”

“Yes,” Jessie said. “He’s a very dangerous, wicked man, but he’s good company when he’s not doing dreadful things to you.” Angela had paled.

“I need to sit down,” she said. “I haven’t stopped since I found out you were being let out. I haven’t been able to sit down at all, and I…oh Jessie, I am so pleased that you’re out of that horrible place!” She threw her arms around Jessie and burst into tears. Jessie held her tight and patted her back. Angela was tall, but slim, with fine bones. Jessie had always thought that if it weren’t for her friend’s undeniable curves, she would have made a perfect ballet dancer, with her long neck, her elegant bearing, her big eyes and her pale, translucent skin. Ignoring, of course, the minor fact that Angela couldn’t dance.

They had been friends for almost two years, since Angela had moved into the apartment building Jessie used to live in, and fallen down the stairs as she was carrying her stuff up. Jessie had given her coffee, helped her to move in, and they’d clicked immediately. It had taken a few months before Angela had told her about her past, her name-change, her job change, and her life-changing experience in the Institute. Neither of them had family, and while Jessie had friends, Angela had slipped very easily into the role of best friend. In fact, she had almost moved into the house with Jessie when she bought it, but had decided that it was best if they each kept their own space. Angela’s standards had dropped a lot with her fall from grace, and she’d gone from a two-level penthouse in the city to a tiny apartment. But that tiny apartment had come to mean safety and security and freedom from her past, and she didn’t want to give it up.

“Now talk to me,” Angela said, finally releasing her and mopping up her face. She sank down onto Jessie’s sofa and drew her down beside her. “Patrick stayed with you for a day? King Dazzler Patrick?”

“There’s another?” Jessie asked. “Yes, that Patrick.”

“Well don’t expect me to believe that he didn’t have sex with you,” her friend said. “You don’t need to protect him, Jessie. I know what he’s like.”
”He didn’t,” Jessie assured her simply. “Jake made him promise not to.”

“And he listened?” Angela was astounded. “I don’t believe it. That man has no scruples at all. He honoured a promise?”

“He was surprisingly good company,” Jessie said again, deciding not to mention some of the unscrupulous things he’d done to her. She’d share one, though. “When he wasn’t making me garden in the nude, that is.”
”I KNEW it!” Angela said. “The bastard!” Her face was flushed. “I hate everyone involved in that horrible place, but I hate him the most.”

“Why?” Jessie asked. “Because of the show?”

“Not just that,” Angela said. “He took a particular interest in me, for some reason. He personally supervised several of the things that were done to me, and of course, because King Dazzler was involved, there were big crowds. And he…oh, never mind.”
”And he?” Jessie prompted. For a long time she’d believed it was better to let Angela keep her memories to herself. Now however, she wondered whether her friend would benefit from talking about them to someone who at least had some concept of what it was like.

“He was one of the ones who came to me at night,” Angela said. “Twice, in fact. And while the others give you points, the high and mighty King Dazzler doesn’t. Apparently The Cat doesn’t either, but I wouldn’t know about that.”

“Patrick forced you?” Jessie felt ill. Angela shook her head.

“Worse,” she said. “He teases and tempts you and before you know it, you’re giving it away for free. Twice,” she said bitterly. “The bastard is so good looking and so good at getting under your skin. And between your legs. I can’t believe he didn’t try it with you.”

Jessie wasn’t sure why she didn’t just tell Angela everything that had happened, but later on that night, lying in bed, she supposed it was because it was all too recent. She needed to process it, to put it into places where she could deal with it. Not that she was ever going to be able to deal with what Daniel had done to her. Dear heaven, had that really been less then twenty-four hours before? And she wasn’t even going to think about being naked in front of five men, with four of them running their fingers and their tongues all over her body, tickling her into orgiastic oblivion.

But even the next morning, when Angela, having stayed the night, sat down opposite her at the kitchen table and asked her to tell her all about it, she found that she still couldn’t talk about it all.

The phone never stopped ringing and the knocks on the door were incessant. Threats and abuse from Angela made no difference. They were under siege.

“Why don’t you just do one interview,” Angela eventually suggested. “I was a journalist, remember? If you give one interview, it takes away the scoop factor for the rest of them. And you can charge a fortune for it.”
”I don’t want a fortune for it,” Jessie disagreed. “I just want them all to leave me alone.”
”Well, Greta Garbo,” Angela said. “I recommend that you go to the top on this.”
”You mean?” Jessie asked. Angela nodded.

“I do,” she said.

……………..

Which was how Jessie came to be sitting, blinking in the bright lights, on the set of ‘The Carlton Show’, facing a huge audience and trying to avoid the questions of the most popular interviewer in the country. Up close, he looked pasty and underfed, but his expensive clothes and thick make-up made him look gorgeous on camera. His face was suspiciously unlined and his forehead never moved, making Jessie think of plastic surgeons and botox, but the man himself, primped, made-up and egotistical as he undeniably was, was still friendly and charming. He’d greeted her like a long lost friend.

“Oh Jessie!” he said, getting up and walking over to greet her as she walked onto his set to applause from the audience. He embraced her, taking care not to touch her made-up face to his black suit jacket. “What you’ve been through, my dear!” He helped her solicitously to her seat. Her limp was barely noticeable now, but he was careful nevertheless.

“Well people, this pretty face is the face of a survivor,” he said dramatically. Embarrassed, Jessie did not know where to look as the applause rang out again. “Falsely accused, cruelly incarcerated, she’s still able to smile,” Carlton was on a roll, or at least the autocue was. He was giving it all he had in terms of pathos, though. “So Jessie. What was the worst part of it, darling?”

“Feeling powerless, Carlton,” she said. “Knowing that I was innocent but that there was nothing I could do to prove it.”
”Must have been terrible,” he shook his head sympathetically. She sensed he wasn’t satisfied with that. “But what was the worst part of the actual Shame Institute?” Ah. He wanted dirt and word-pictures of nudity and discomfort, did he? He was going to be disappointed.

“Seeing what the other women were going through,” she said simply.

“Like what?” he asked.

“The admissions procedure,” she said, sticking with generalities. “I’m so glad the Governor saved me from that.”

“The Governor saved you from quite a lot really, didn’t he?” Carlton said, temporarily giving up on that line of questioning. “Quite the hero of the hour, the Governor. In fact, it seems only right that he should be here to share the triumph, don’t you think? Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Jake Miller.” The music of the ‘Shame Game’ show rang out as Jake walked out onto the set.

Trying to make it look easy and friendly, Jessie stood up and walked over to greet him, kissing him on the cheek as he leaned down to her.

“You seem very close,” Carlton observed, once they were seated and he’d shaken Jake’s hand..

“Very grateful,” Jessie modified, having some trouble meeting Jake’s eyes.

“It’s not at all necessary,” Jake said, his deep voice sounding more mellow than usual.

“Not necessary?” Carlton repeated, incredulous. “Not necessary? You saved her from the pits of shame hell, man!”

“Nicely put,” Jessie said. Jake shrugged and smiled.

“So, when did you first suspect that Jessie shouldn’t have been there?” Carlton asked.

“As soon as I saw her case file,” Jake replied.

“And why didn’t the police or the court officials reach the same conclusion?”
”Perhaps they’re more overworked than I am,” Jake said diplomatically. “In any case, I kept an eye out for when she arrived.”
”And once you met her?” the interviewer prompted.

“My instincts said that my conclusions were correct,” Jake finished off.

“This was after you pulled her out of the Chute?” Carlton asked, pushing for details.

“Not in person,” Jake smiled. “I asked one of the guards to bring her to my office. But yes, it was after that.”

“Jessie, how did you feel at that point?” Carlton turned his attention to her.

“Incredibly relieved,” she answered almost honestly. “Although I wasn’t totally sure what was happening.”
”And what did happen?” he asked silkily.
”I engaged her in conversation for some time,” Jake answered before she could. “I talked with her about what was happening to the prisoners who were coming in. And I watched and listened to her.” And undressed and fondled her, Jessie added silently.

“And after that?” Carlton looked pointedly at Jessie.

“Jake arranged for me to stay in a residence outside of the actual Institute,” she said.

“And none of the shaming punishment was used on you,” the interviewer said. “None at all? You didn’t have to be naked in front of any of them?” She tried to find a way to answer that one honestly.

“She was given a medical by one of our doctors,” Jake rescued her. “Even outside of the Institute, that normally involves undressing.”
”And apart from that?”
”Your line of questioning is embarrassing Jessica,” Jake said firmly. “Reminding her of everything that could have happened to her is not all that considerate, Carlton.”

“Well, I’ve been told!” Carlton laughed, and the audience laughed with him. “So Jessie, did you see any of the dazzlers?”
”I saw some of them,” she said. “The place where I was staying had live feeds of what was happening in the Institute. I think I saw most of the dazzlers in action.”
”And who were your favourites?” he demanded. Again, she struggled to think of an appropriate response. Jake didn’t save her this time.

“I have to say that all of them are very, very good looking,” she said. “But I don’t like what they do to the prisoners.” There were some boos from the audience.
”We do,” Carlton said. “But we’ll allow you to have a soft heart about it, considering how close you came to being one of those prisoners. Won’t we, people?” The audience agreed reluctantly. “But I insist on knowing, Jessie. Who were your favourites?” She sighed.

“In terms of looks, you can’t really go past Daniel and Patrick,” she said. That brought lots of cheers. Clearly a popular choice. The cheers got louder, building to a roar.

“I SWEAR it wasn’t a set-up!” shrieked Carlton as Patrick and Daniel, both clad in stylish jeans and t-shirts, walked out onto the set, again to the music of the show they ran. Jessie looked at Jake in disbelief before looking back at the two of them.

“We don’t get kisses?” Patrick protested. She stood up to kiss first him, then Daniel on their smooth cheeks as they bent down to her. Daniel’s hand squeezed her shoulder. His touch was warm and soothing, but was gone in an instant.

“You obviously met them as well as saw them,” Carlton said.

“They visited me,” Jessie explained.

“And we went to say goodbye once Jake got the clearance for her,” Patrick added, irrepressible. Jessie concentrated on keeping her face expressionless.
”How nice,” the interviewer said. “So, Captain Dazzler and The Cat,” he paused as the audience cheered and applauded. “As I was saying… how do you feel about the one that got away?”

“Pleased that justice was done,” Patrick answered.

“And disappointed,” Daniel added, bringing the audience to fever pitch as he grinned at Jessie.

“What would you have done to her?” Carlton asked, delighted.

“Whatever she most wanted not to have done to her,” he replied. Jessie glared as his grin broadened. “No, not really,” he said. “I hope I’d have had the brains to see that she wasn’t meant to be there, too.” He had, Jessie remembered.

“So no spankings or display positions?” Carlton asked.

“I didn’t get to spank her once,” Daniel complained.
”And the display positions are for the Institute, not the residences,” Patrick answered obliquely.

“Who was the busty blonde you worked on this morning?” Carlton turned to Patrick, changing the subject.

“Leonie Wilson,” he replied immediately, his good-looking face lighting up as he grinned. “My hand is still warm from her butt.”

“I’ll bet her face is still red, too,” Carlton wanted the last word. “How do they all feel about being exposed and spanked in front of millions of viewers?”
”Not happy,” Daniel answered that one. “As you’d expect. But then, the Shame Institute isn’t named that for nothing.”

“And it’s there for a very good reason,” Carlton said primly. “Jessie, you obviously don’t agree. What did you really hate about what you saw?”
”You’re not going to like my answers,” Jessie said, losing patience. “I didn’t like anything that I saw. I thought it was all very cruel and very wrong.” Carlton controlled his audience.

“But they’re criminals,” he pointed out.

“They’re still people,” she responded. “I read somewhere that you can judge a civilisation by how it treats its disenfranchised, its prisoners and its vulnerable. By that standard, the Shame Institute, I’m sorry Jake, but the Shame Institute is a black mark on our social conscience.” The crowd, those of them who understood what she’d said, did not agree at all.

“To some extent, I agree with Jessie,” Daniel surprised them into silence. “I’d like to see prisoners given the choice between the Institute and jail. Humiliating and uncomfortable though the program is, I suspect that most of them would still choose a month of flashing their fannies over three to five years in the big house.”
”And of course, then they’d only have themselves to blame for where they ended up,” Patrick added in support.

“But they do anyway,” Carlton pointed out.

“Yes, but choosing the nature of their punishment would make it even harder to take,” Jake said. “Both Patrick and Daniel know that my opinions aren’t too far different from their own on this.”

“Would that make you feel better, Jessie?” Carlton asked her.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “To be honest, I’d prefer that this sort of thing didn’t occur at all, but if people actually elected to be punished in that way, then yes, I suppose I would find that more acceptable.” Carlton nodded, as if considering the proposal, as if it were up to him to decide.

“Interesting suggestion,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll hear more of it. So King Dazzler, tell us. Who’s had the best set of tits you’ve seen so far?” Patrick laughed as the audience roared.

“I like all of them, Carlton,” he said. “I’m easy to please.”
”And Daniel?” Carlton turned to him.

“I’m with Patrick,” Daniel answered. “I’ve never seen a naked woman I didn’t like the look of.”

“And what do you think of Debra Jones’ invitation to have her on your show?” Carlton asked mischievously.

“I’m terrified at the thought,” Patrick answered. “That woman could take us both on with one hand tied behind her back.” The audience laughed again.

Jessie relaxed, sensing that the attention was off her. Jake sent her a quick, reassuring smile as Patrick and Daniel took the heat. They were comfortable with it and used to it.

“Tell me,” Carlton asked. “Is it true that a woman said she’d stay another week if she could be guaranteed that The Cat would visit her every night?” she asked. Patrick nodded.

“It is,” he said. “And that The Cat refused on our behalf.” Daniel said nothing.
”And that another woman went straight back to the Institute after being released, knocked on the gates and asked for his phone number?” Patrick grinned.

“No, actually that one was after my number,” he admitted.

“Poor, deluded woman,” Daniel said, to laughter from the audience.

“Jessie,” Carlton said, startling her. “Do you secretly wish that you’d had the chance to get it on with one of these two?”
”Well it would hardly be secret if I told you, now would it?” she responded without thinking too hard. Everyone laughed, including Carlton. She found she quite enjoyed it, so she kept going. “But no, to be honest, I don’t. Those two are way out of my league. They’re scary. Debra Jones, bless her, can have them.” Even Jake laughed at that, and it was the last question Carlton asked her. Five minutes later, after some further banter between him, Patrick and Daniel, the segment was over. He embraced her, shook hands with all three of the men, and they were able to leave.

Jessie was led back to the dressing room she’d come from, and it was only when she reached it that she realised the other three weren’t behind her. So yet again, she didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. And considering their last goodbye, two days before, that was undoubtedly a good thing. Fifteen minutes later, when the cold cream had finally removed the last trace of the make-up they’d slathered on her, she left the room and almost walked straight into Daniel.

”Hello,” she said, feeling silly. He was so huge, and he looked so different to what he had on the set. He looked friendly now. Almost friendly enough to put her at ease, but not quite. There was a history there that she wasn’t prepared to put out of her mind.

“Hello,” he responded in kind, smiling down at her. “Are you free for lunch?” he asked. Jessie said nothing for an instant. She wasn’t a coward by nature, though.

“Yes,” she said. His smile widened.
”Mind if I join you?” he went on.

“No, I don’t mind,” she said. “Although I don’t know why you want to.”
”I want to get to know you better,” he said simply, falling into step beside her as she walked out to where the taxi waited.

“You’ve already had sex with me,” she said bluntly. “Three times.” He swallowed a smile quickly.

“That was sex,” he dismissed. “I want to get to know you.”

Angela got out of the taxi as they approached, and Jessie hesitated. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about Angela, who was definitely not going to want to see Daniel.

“Angela,” she said, making the best of the situation. “This is…”
“I know who it is,” Angela said stiffly. “The Cat.”
“Daniel,” he revised, holding out his hand.
“This is my friend Angela,” Jessie said, watching as her friend put her hand into his briefly, her eyes wary.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled, his green eyes friendly.

“I’ve invited Daniel to have lunch with us,” Jessie said. “Is that okay?”
“It’s fine,” Angela said. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll cut out. I have a heap of work to do at home.” That was Daniel’s cue to excuse himself politely, since it was obvious that his presence made her uncomfortable. He didn’t.
“What do you do, Angela?” he asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.” He’d folded himself into the car after the two of them, and was settling himself on the seat, tucking his long legs into the available space.

“I’m a writer,” she said. “A fiction writer.”
“That must be challenging at times,” he said. “Setting your own deadlines and all.”

“My publisher enforces the deadlines for me,” Angela assured him. She was starting to relax now that it was evident he hadn’t recognised her. She was annoyed at herself for ever worrying about it. He saw hundreds of women – thousands, and the last time he’d seen her, she’d been naked, and a redhead, with a different name. As if a man who looked like The Cat would ever remember her anyway. Daniel, she reminded herself. Not The Cat. Daniel.

“Where do you want to go for lunch?” Jessie asked him.

“Somewhere quiet, please,” he said. “Thanks to all the billboards and buses and publicity, I usually get recognised. I’d rather not spend the entire time signing autographs.”
“Ah, the penalty of fame,” Angela mocked.

“You wait until you’re a world famous author,” he smiled wryly. “Then you’ll understand.” Overhearing, the taxi driver adjusted his mirror.

“Aren’t you that Cat bloke?” he asked suddenly. Daniel met his eyes in the mirror.

“Yes,” he said. “Off-duty, but yes.”
“My missus is going to be stoked when I tell her I drove you,” the driver said. “She thinks you’re a bit of alright, she does.” Daniel smiled, flashing his teeth.

“Would she like an autograph?” he asked.

“Would she what!” the driver smiled back. “Her name’s Gloria. You got some paper and a pen back there?”
“I’ve got it,” Daniel assured him, reaching inside his jacket. He took out a small pad of paper and wrote ‘Remember to always be a good girl, Gloria.’ He signed it Daniel, but he drew whiskers coming out from both sides of the name, and wrote ‘The Cat’ underneath it. Then he folded the paper and passed it over to the driver.

“So, those women. They’re really naked, right?” the driver asked.

“No, they’re just wearing realistic bodysuits,” Daniel replied, straight-faced. The driver raised shocked eyes to his mirror again, and then laughed.

“You nearly had me there,” he said. Ten minutes later, the driver still beaming, they pulled up outside Angela’s little flat. Daniel climbed out so she didn’t have to crawl over him, and Jessie got out to say goodbye.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she said to her friend. She still couldn’t believe Angela had sat out there in the taxi the whole time. Even if the Carlton show was paying for the taxi.
“Even if I didn’t have the balls to come in with you,” Angela admitted. She turned away from Jessie’s hug and held her hand out to Daniel.
“Be nice to her,” she said firmly. He smiled and took her hand.
“I will,” he said. “And by the way, I think you look nice as a brunette, but the red hair was amazing.” Angela froze. He looked down at her, the expression on his face sympathetic.

“I never forget a face,” he said. “And I’d prefer not to have any pretence between us.” She tried to tug her hand free, but he held it, folding his other hand over it too.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but whether he was apologising for what had happened to her and his part in it, or for remembering her, it wasn’t clear.

“Angela,” Jessie reached out. Angela blinked.

“It’s fine,” she said. “It’s more than two years ago now. I should be over it.”

“It’s not an easy thing to get over,” Daniel said. “But you’re doing really well. Much, much better than most of the women who go through there. I love hearing the success stories, and I hope to have the chance to get to talk to you again, Angela.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it before releasing it.

Back in the car, breathless at what had happened, Jessie turned to him, speaking softly so the taxi driver wouldn’t hear.

“I can’t believe you recognised her,” she said. “When did you? Was it something she said or did?”
“I recognised her as soon as I saw her,” he admitted. “I really don’t forget faces, although I usually don’t remember names.”

“She changed her name,” Jessie said.

“Most of them do,” he said. “As soon as the year is up.”
“That year is so cruel,” Jessie said. “To have to stay in the same area, with all of those people who know what happened, who watched it on television, maybe even took part.”
“It makes it stick,” he said. “And to many of them, it’s still preferable to several years in jail.”
“It’s cruel,” she said.

“It is,” he agreed, startling her.