The buckets were full and the shit threatened to spill out.Grace whispered conspiratorially "We used to hang our robes on the hook and go down without..., to keep them clean,"Martha looked at her feetGrace nodded, "Those as well"Forty eight hours after leaving her home in the US clutching a straight A report from School Martha stepped naked into the Mountain moonlight carrying two stinking buckets of cold shit on a wooden yoke round her neck.Martha felt exhilarated she belonged at last, a useful. Doesn’t that dishonor the Great Lady?” I ask.“No, they don’t dishonor things, but to understand that, you need to understand the purpose of the rules. The Lady doesn’t take joy in her priestesses becoming mothers when that is not what they want. Nor does she revel in us taking lovers who have no respect for us.“For the most part, the rules are there to tune the energy of our service, not to control what we do in the parts of our lives that are not given to her.“It would be different if you. "My husband," I continued, "he thinks I have... a problem. He's threatened me before... I'm afraid he's going to leave me. And my job..." I couldn't finish. The fact was, I couldn't afford to miss another day of work that month.He had looked away from me. He started typing on his laptop.I looked at him. I swallowed. I cleared my throat. I sat up straight up, or tried to. I arched my back. I glanced down at my chest. I saw my breasts looked nearly naked, through the wet fabric that was clinging. Now I’m going to trust you two to cover your eyes and not to look while I get changed." Oh, you have out word on it. We won’t take a peek," says one fellow chastely."Keep ‘em covered," insists your mother, and you notice that you have a raging hard-on and your pits are soaked."Hey! I told you two not to look," squeals your mother suddenly."Sorry, we couldn’t help ourselves," laughs one guy.There is a pause and you noticed that you are frozen in your seat as you listen to these two strange men.