Your democratically elected discipline session begins now… (alternative version for those capable of behaving themselves in polls still to come.)
“No, I don’t understand, that’s the whole damn problem!” You yell the words at her, throwing caution to the wind.
Grisham’s brow lifts with a hint of incredulity. “You’re really going to push this, huh? Okay, little girl,” she says. “Let me help you understand.”
Your feet hit the ground and her hands go from holding your shirt, to pulling it open. Buttons pop off and fly across the room as she tugs the garment from your arms and then goes to work on your pants.
“What the hell!? What are you doing?” Your squeak of protest hits a new register. Continue reading