Twenty-one. Her voice was trembling, and very, very soft. "Thank you..." She took a moment to compose herself, took a jagged, shallow breath, and cont...nued, "...for disciplining me, Johnathan, Sir. I will now go clean myself up." Her skirt still on her knees, she picked up the cup, and then shuffled her way to the stairs, and one step after the other, started ascending it. Each careful step she took up the stairs seemed to make her wince, but she kept completely quiet. Her now crimson bottom. An unsigned, unstamped dime store “Thank You” card showed up in my mailbox a few days later.Trace became something of a trustee – he’d figured out who we were, or gotten close enough anyway. Proved himself over and over, eventually he was let in completely.He never really stopped coming by. We’d never talked about it, never discussed the next time he’d come over. It just sort of happened.It was a couple more years before our relationship went further. It certainly wasn’t “fated,” the love of. More

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