Njcn J

.. before taking up her position at the side of the square.“Now,” said Miss Judith, “they do all their exercises over again... but this time with the handicap of the Saddle Strap.”“By the left... quick march!” bellowed Miss Mara.And off the four wretched creatures went again. Arms swinging, legs raising.But now they gasped and winced at almost every step... and the cruelty of this device known as Saddle Strap was very obvious.Soon Miss Mara’s thong was falling with greater frequency.Every time the girls turned away from their audience, their buttocks seemed to have taken on a redder and redder hue.Now, too, swathes of red were appearing across the fronts of thighs.To say the least, Miss Mara was relentless. Cruel and callous in her commands and comments.The drill Sergeant personified... but in female form.After a quarter of an hour’s marching, the girls were put to their bending and stretching exercises. Now even more agonising than before, of course. Quentin had to keep reminding. Roger had lost his wife in a car accident four years ago and though he looked forward to being with her again, he probably never expected it to be so soon. The sky is cloudy and dark, and shortly after Spencer and Samantha arrive, it begins to slowly drizzle. The people that show up for the funeral come from many different agencies including FBI, CIA, NSA, and of course the TDF. Those that aren’t part of an agency are friends or family, including Roger’s daughter. Most of the people Samantha and Spencer recognize. Hands are shook and hugs are given between various people. Roger’s daughter is given condolences and she stands up amazingly well.“How are you holding up?” Samantha asks Amanda, Roger’s daughter.“First my mother, now my father,” she answers meekly. “I don’t know how else to feel.”Samantha throws her arm around the young woman. She had just graduated from high school the year before and was away at college when Roger’s death came. “How are you doing at college,” she asks.
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