Jordan tugged on my hand and headed toward the couch. “Come here. Sit down.”I followed her, mostly because she tightened her grip on my hand, but ...lso because refusing would have been rude. We sat on her couch and she continued to hold onto my hand. I didn’t mind. If anything, I liked it. It meant she wasn’t afraid of me.“Now,” she said, once she was settled, facing me with one leg bent with her foot tucked under the other. She was holding my hand along the back of the couch. “Talk to me. Tell. "Right hand first. Get it well out in front of you fingers spread and palm up. Stand there just like that and take the punishment you deserve." Soon she’s crying and stamping her feet struggling to maintain position as first the right hand and then the left is strapped good and hard. "Are you learning your lesson? Are you going to follow directions and show up for daily training? Like an athlete, a woman like you requires conditioning and in the form of daily training.” "Yes Sir." Sheila cries. More

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