Then I picked Elizabeth up and carried her over to a grassy, shaded area under a large maple tree, the dog following alongside. Using my pocket knife... I cut the rope that bound her wrists behind her back. But her freedom was only momentary. I grabbed a length of chain and secured it around her wrists, then I tied the chain to the trunk of the tree. Her bound wrists were now hanging down by her flat abdomen instead of behind her back. Mack and John followed behind, stopping along the way to. A bunch of hands, probably 20 or more clawed at her jeans. The tears in them gave way easily. It was weird, I could see them being torn from her ankles up. The denim slowly disappeared. Pieces of torn shredded denim were held like trophy pieces. The more that was torn off, the more excited the drunken crowd became. The crowd thought it was a game slowly taking more and more denim as the tears would see fit. Then they were torn off in a frenzy into little and I mean little shorts. The. More

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