So I stood and stared in dumbfounded apprehension, my hands moving behind me on their own accord, protecting my bottom. I didn’t resisted when Miss Craven’s gentle hand took my arm and pulled me forward. If she had been placing my head into a guilletine I wouldn’t have struggled any more or less. I was like a rag doll, limp and pliable. I felt myself being drawn forward and down, and as her sweet smell overwhelmed me, I went along helplessly. My face passed closely over Miss Craven’s lap. I could see the slight indentation where her skirt had sunk between her legs, showing me the sleek outline of her thighs.
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