She told me, "You are doing well Carla. I know they strip you of any pride and want to make you a mindless, obedient slave, but if you have any chance... of living through this, you must do whatever they demand." She then took me to her bedroom and into her closet. She selected a pair of 4" spike heeled shoes with open toes and forced them onto my feet. They were too small by a size or two, but they were now on my feet. She told me, "When you walk in heels, put a nice wiggle in your ass Carla, the. Everybody calls her the Wheelchair Lady, or Miss Jessie. She don't mind."Pushing open the screen door, he stepped inside. The church was bigger than he had thought. It ran backwards a ways, a long, rectangular room. Today it wasn't a church. There were no pews.Instead, wooden tables had been set up end to end and nearly a dozen men and women bustled about behind and in front of the tables. The tables were heaped with loaves of bread, pastries, canned goods, some green vegetables that looked. “Yes?” Ted asked.The little boy hung his head, but somehow didn’t quite manage to look contrite.“We ... did something last night. Something we weren’t supposed to do.”Ted thought he knew where this was going.“Actually,” Paula was telling the grown man now, “we did something we deserve a spanking for.”Last night as he had sent the children out to the treehouse he had mentioned that he needed to express a concern to his friend Cassandra.“Kids,” he had told them, “I need you to leave the room a. I like danger. I like playing and teasing, but we will not fuck--that's the rule.” We were both drunk, touching each other, my cock throbbing under her boot. “Is that cool with you?” she asked. “No, it's not cool with me,” I answered, looking into her eyes. “Well, it better be because we're just going to masturbate and pretend we're fucking. Get it!” she said, as if ordering me. “I get what you're saying but that's not what's going to happen. You can't dress like that, get drunk with me.