It was in this new setting that I first learned of the power of the ring. Harriet Barrett, she of the blue eyes and black hair, was visiting with her ...other and older sister, Catherine. Mrs. Barrett was making sure that Catherine and I had every chance to speak. But it was Harriet by whom I could not help but be entranced.I write this memoir in a time far removed from the events I am narrating and to an audience unfamiliar with those times. I must explain so that what follows in the narrative. Two thick woolly socks began to shuffle across Natasha Johnson’s hard-wood floor. Above them stood two perfectly smooth legs that shined in the growing morning light. They were the darkest richest brown you ever saw. They ended somewhere underneath a long old T-shirt that was several sizes to large for her lanky frame. As Natasha lurched closer to the washroom you could almost make out the impression of her hidden erect pointed nipples that are an even darker black against her small petite yet. More

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