 |
|
|||
| Tracy's Ordeal at the lodge | Back to T | Back to main page | ||
update jan 7 - 2011
|
|
|||
| Tracy's Ordeal at the lodge | Back to T | Back to main page | ||
update jan 7 - 2011
Another story by Jake Olive | story index
M/f, D/s, cons, exhib, humil, spank
This story is entirely fictional. The story and characters exist only in the
author’s mind. Please leave feedback at: JKOlive47@gmail.com
Tracey’s Ordeal at the Lodge
By: Jake Olive
JKOlive47@gmail.com
If you have any comments please feel free to email me at JKOlive47@gmail.com
Tracey sat comfortably in her luxurious white robe while the makeup girl
painstakingly applied her work to Tracey‘s face. She could hardly wait to take the
stage for the triumph that she had so undoubtedly earned from the lodge. It would be
one of her proudest nights and she could hardly wait to give her big speech to the
assembly of men at the lodge.
It had all started a little over a year earlier when Tracy was 25 years old. She had
just graduated from law school when she was offered a job at the prestigious
Chambers Law Partners Inc. Tracey was both single and ambitious and in spite of the
fact that she was to be the only female lawyer to be employed at the firm, she was
determined to quickly rise to partner.
Mr. Chambers had been in charge at the firm for many years. Much of the daily legal
grappling was now handled by his son Brian and also by the other lawyers that had
long been employed by Mr. Chambers. At 57 years old, Chambers was definitely old
school but he was also not as committed to the long hours of hard work that had once
made his firm so successful. He needed hard working lawyers like Tracey because it
freed him to his greatest pleasure, tinkering with the inner workings of his local
lodge.
When Chambers interviewed Tracey he could see at once that she was not only quite
beautiful but also appeared ambitious and hard working. He knew her looks would give
her a natural advantage in the courtroom and Chambers always looked for an edge.
Tracey had sandy blonde hair, a gorgeous face and the type of figure all men found
quite delightful. Since his group of lawyers had been aging steadily, he had hired
her hopping she could grow into a productive and successful litigator and become a
real asset to his firm.
In addition to working for Chambers Law Partners, Mr. Chambers required that all of
his lawyers belong to the local lodge where he served as President. It was the place
where he and his partners had forged the connections and formed the relationships
that had long powered his successful firm.
He had told Tracy at the end of her first week, “Every member of my firm is a lodge
member and I expect that you will be one too.” He went on to explain to Tracey the
many sound business reasons why an active membership was important to the firm.
“Oh, yes sir Mr. Chambers” Tracey replied.
Tracy was unclear about what a lodge really was but she was thrilled with her new
employment and was eager to do anything that would further her growth with the
company. She was now making more money than she ever had previously and keeping Mr.
Chambers happy was a top priority.
“The other partners and I will take you with us this Friday night and introduce you
around.” Mr. Chambers had said. “Our lodge members are many of the most highly
placed members of this community and we need you to make those connections
quickly.”
Tracey readily agreed.
The next Friday, Mr. Chambers and a few of the other lawyers took Tracy to the
lodge. It was in an older building near the industrial center of the city and it was
clear from the onset that it was the type of place that time had kind of forgotten.
The old lodge had clearly sat unchanged in this spot since long before Tracy had
ever been born. It was the kind of lodge Tracey imagined was a big deal back when
her father was still a child. She could see that the rusty old building was a
throwback to an era where men earned a living and woman and children did as they
were told. As she walked in from the parking lot she imagined all the successful men
of the 1940’s and 1950’s assembling here to swap stories of their great worldly
conquest.
To Tracey the whole idea of a lodge was ridiculous.
The lodge consisted of two main rooms and a couple of small storage areas. The great
hall dominated the structure. It was a very large room with a grand stage that was
likely the central spot for important events that once took place in the old
building. In front of the stage were many rows of seats that ultimately gave way to
a few tables and a large bar area at the back of the room.
The second room was a much smaller lobby near the street. It contained the pictures
of the many men (now most likely deceased) who were once part of this thriving
organization. Tracey could see from all the pictures that these were likely big
players at the lodge back in the day. The clothes and the hairstyles made clear that
these men had not walked the halls here in many years.
As she stood in the inner lobby by the old pictures, she also noticed a long paddle
that hung high up on a wall. It was almost three feet in length with six large holes
drilled into it. It had a name placard displayed underneath it that said, “Ol
Whistler.”
The paddle hung on the wall dusty and moldering much like the men who might have
once employed its horrible use. Being a modern woman, Tracey had no use for the “old
boys club” mentality of years past. As she looked at all the other relics that
crowded the small room she wondered silently how much longer this kind of ridiculous
notion of maleness would exist in a world that was now progressively moving towards
equal rights for woman in the workplace.
“Woman have reached a point where they are on equal footing with men” Tracey thought
quietly. “And my generation will continue to drive this change. This half dead place
is the world of my great grandfather and it has no place in the modern world.”
And of course she was right. The lodge had long been a place where back room deals
were made by men with dusty shoes, big laughs and solid handshakes. These were men
who worked hard, drank harder and then typically died early leaving their fortunes
to heirs that did not share their work ethic or their politics. The accumulated
wealth was almost always lost by those who were ignored while the money was being
accumulated.
Overall, Tracey didn’t think much of the lodge but if it was important to Mr.
Chambers then she would make it a priority.
Over the course of the next year Tracey attended the stale meetings almost every
week. She had few peers in this group and the older men that she did speak with
spent more time eyeing her young figure than they did trying to build any
relationships that would benefit her business.
Additionally, Tracey did not drink hard liquor and they had openly laughed at her
when she suggested that they at least offer red wine at the bar. The only food
options at the lodge were hot dogs and donuts.
Seriously the young girl thought to herself, “who eats donuts?”
One Friday night Mr. Chambers announced to the lodge that to remain in compliance
with lodge bylaws, annual elections were to be held for all key positions.
“This is perfect” thought Tracey. “It will give me a chance to not only show Mr.
Chambers that I can be a leader but it might also give me a chance to make some
changes around here.”
The next Monday Tracey told Mr. Chambers that she was going to run as the new
President of the lodge and her campaign slogan would be, “Let’s bring some new life
into this old place!”
She explained that her progressive platform would include many changes. She was to
advocate increased female membership, the creation of an outside smoking area (to
clear the place of the awful cigar smoke that was the great halls constant
companion) and she would add a new bar area that included many healthy snacks and
would also serve wine and beer in addition to the hard liquor and hot dog option.
This was finally a chance to change the underpinnings of the lodge that she had
found so distasteful.
“Lets modernize this place and make it the kind of place everyone can enjoy!” she
explained to Mr. Chambers.
Mr. Chambers was silently amused by Tracey’s plan but told her he would announce her
candidacy for President at the next meeting and give her the opportunity to address
the entire membership and present her platform of change and modernization for
everyone to consider.
And thus began Tracey’s campaign that would lead her to her triumphant night in the
white robe. She spoke convincingly at that next meeting of all the new ideas she had
and the men cheered famously at her suggestions. Tracey Smith was well on her way.
Over the course of the next month Tracey campaigned very aggressively. She even
traveled to many of the lodge members homes in the hope of solidifying their vote
with some good old fashion politics. She always dressed a little suggestively being
sure to show a little cleavage and managing to shorten her shirk whenever possible.
Tracey would make a point to touch the members arm or shoulder because she was well
versed in the art of female manipulation!
Many nights the men would escort Tracey to the door and openly pat her firm young
behind as she left. Even though this was exactly the kind of chauvinistic and sexist
behavior she would put an end to as President of the lodge, she would always giggle
submissively in an attempt to curry their favor as a voter. Often the men would go
back in for a second pat after seeing her happy reaction to being touched by their
old hands.
“Always on the behind” she thought. “What is it with these old guys?”
As election night grew closer, Tracey was surprised at the lack of a campaign being
put forth by Mr. Chambers. She had spent many long nights discussing her plans with
the membership and he had barely brought up the whole campaign at all.
Tracey grew increasingly confident on election night. Many of the men she had
visited made a point of hugging Tracey and telling her that she was “just what they
needed” and that they were “looking forward to seeing a lot more of her.” She was
already secretly writing her acceptance speech. Mr. Chambers didn’t know the power
of a little female persuasion but he was about to learn!
Elections were held the following Friday by secret ballot. Each member would enter
the small inner lobby alone and write the name of their selected candidate on a
sheet of paper and drop it into a large election box. The members went in one at a
time to ensure a fair vote.
When Tracey’s turn came, she walked into the small lobby, took a piece of paper and
wrote “Tracey” on it. Casting a quick look over her shoulder she then grabbed a
second piece and making an attempt to change her handwriting, also inscribed
“Tracey” on it. She also dropped that ballot into the box.
“This is good old fashion politics” she mussed. “Every vote counts!”
The elections went smoothly and some of the members that she had visited previously
were silently giving her the “thumbs up,” indicating to Tracey that things were
progressing very nicely.
Monday after the elections Tracey was summoned to Mr. Chambers office.
“Tracey, I don’t know how to say this exactly, but I wanted you to know that you won
the election” a somber Mr. Chambers announced. “Beginning at our meeting this
Friday, you will be replacing me as President of the lodge.”
Tracey was thrilled. She could see that Mr. Chambers was disappointed but he should
have worked harder figured Tracey. Deep down she knew he would be impressed both by
her leadership and her winning style.
“Girl Power” she thought to herself.
“Oh thank you Mr. Chambers. You will see, all my changes will make the lodge so much
better. I know that I can increase the female membership and the new money will help
with all the renovations of the bar and enable construction of the new smoking area.
You will see, this will be the best thing that ever happened at the lodge.
“Well, I don’t know about that” a downcast Mr. Chambers replied. But on Friday you
are to address the new members as their President and you can go over the agenda of
your new administration at that time.”
“Also, I did not mention this before but the job comes with a few perks” Mr.
Chambers said offhandedly.
“Perks?” Tracey eagerly replied.
“Well yes, on Friday you will have our driver pick you up at the office and he will
take you to receive a full beauty treatment. You know, hair, nails that kind of
thing.
“How exciting!” the new lodge President replied.
“Also, when you get to the lodge there will be a masseuse available to give you a
full massage and even a make up person to make you look your very best for your big
night. I didn‘t mention this to you earlier because not many of the members know the
President receives such lavish treatment.”
“Well that secret is safe with me!” Tracey delighted.
And so that is how it came to be that on this particular Friday night Tracey sat in
a luxurious white robe emblazoned with the lodge logo awaiting her big moment. Her
acceptance speech was designed to kick start her administration focused fully on
bringing the new world into the old lodge.
As she was quickly scanning the notes of her prepared speech, Mr. Chambers entered
the small room at the very back of the lodge where Tracey had earlier received her
massage and makeup work.
“Hi Tracey, you look very beautiful, I hope you enjoyed the massage!”
“Oh yes Mr. Chambers, the lodge is so generous, will I get this treatment at every
meeting?” Tracey asked with eager anticipation.
“Oh yes” Mr. Chambers replied. “Nothing is too good for our new President.”
As Mr. Chambers finished speaking, two large men walked into the room.
“Who are they?” Tracey inquired.
“Oh that’s your new security detail” Mr. Chambers explained. “The President gets an
escort everywhere she goes. It is for your own safety and security Tracey. “
“Don’t worry,” Mr. Chambers laughed. You will get used to all the new attention
after a while.
“Gentlemen, will you please escort our President to the stage?” Mr. Chambers said
with a chuckle and a gesture.
“But Mr. Chambers, I haven’t dressed yet. I am still naked under this robe from the
massage. I need a private minute to get dressed first.” Tracey said this while
looking over her shoulder for the business suit she had selected for her big
speech.
“Nonsense, I forgot to tell you that lodge tradition mandates that you give your
opening remarks in the “sacred robe of leadership. That’s why we gave it to you. As
for you being naked underneath, well we won‘t tell if you don‘t. Hurry on now boys,
our members are expecting us!”
With that Tracey found herself rushing down the back hall of the lodge both
clutching the notes for her speech and also trying to make sure that the “sacred
robe of leadership” or whatever it was kept firmly attached to her body. Her
security team remained tightly in place, one in the front and one in the back.
When they reached the rear of the stage area Mr. Chambers stopped.
“Tracey, you stay back here and out of sight until I have had a chance to properly
introduce you. At that time your new security team will bring you forward.”
Tracey could see from behind the thick brown curtains that the audience was much
larger than a typical lodge meeting. She could even see a few woman towards the back
and many other new faces.”
As she waited for Mr. Chambers introduction, she could even see video equipment all
set up to record her acceptance speech. She began to feel a little bit nervous at
the thought of speaking in front of such a large crowd. She pulled tightly on the
cord of her robe and took one last look at her notes.
“Gentlemen” Mr. Chambers began ignoring the scattered females in the room. “Today is
a very important day…”
Tracey could feel herself blush behind the curtains.
Mr. Chambers continued, “I know many of you are here to listen to me lay out our
operating plans for the next year, but that is going to have to wait for a little
while this evening. We have a much more urgent matter that we must now attend to.”
Tracey was puzzled and she looked at her new security team in the hope of getting an
explanation. They both looked ahead plainly.
The crowed rustled and then quieted.
“As you know, we recently had an election. It is my sad duty to inform you that one
of our historic and most important company bylaws was broken during the course of
that election.”
Again the crowd rustled.
“As you know, I have run unopposed as President of the lodge for the last seventeen
years but this year Miss Tracey Smith ran as my opponent. As the elders examined the
election tally, they saw that there were two votes for Miss Smith and many of us
thought this to be very unusual.”
“After interviewing our membership and counting the number of votes placed, the
board of elders has determined that Miss Smith is guilty of violating lodge bylaws
related to “election rigging.” She dropped two votes into the election box in a
direct effort to manipulated the outcome of the election.”
Tracey stood week and numb behind the curtain. She felt her security team take her
gently by the arms.
“My son Brian was able to do some research on the required penalties to be imposed
on a member for such a violation and he has determined that the dictated punishment
is as follows; I quote:
He looked down at an old parchment in his hand, “ NOT LESS THAN 25 OR MORE THAN 50
SWATS WITH THE OFFICIAL LODGE IMPLEMENT.”
The crowd cheered wildly.
Someone yelled, “I propose 50 swats!”
Another yelled, “I second!.”
Tracey felt flush as she tried to comprehend what was occurring in the room in front
of her. As she looked out onto the stage she saw Mr. Chambers son Brian walking out
that obscene paddle she had noticed a year earlier hanging in the front lobby. It
appeared to have been cleaned and shinned. He handed the paddle to his father.
Mr. Chambers held “Ol Whistler” high above his head and declared, “Gentlemen it has
been so voted and so seconded. The motion is now carried, Miss Smith shall receive
50 swats from Ol Whistler!”
The crowd exploded into applause and cheers. Tracey then saw a large hook shaped
object slowly descending above the stage from a cable attached to a rigging at the
top of the old building.
The men at her side began to push her forward. Tracey felt terrified and helpless as
she emerged into the men’s full view from behind the lodge curtains. She looked
small and pale as she made her way to center stage.
Once she was fully visible the crowd became almost uncontrollable in their delight
at her current predicament. It was to be the first paddling anyone of them had ever
seen and it was to be conducted on the greatest beauty their lodge had ever known as
a member.
Mr. Chambers remained at the podium while the security men tied Tracey’s hands
together and then extended them above her head and attached it to the long hook that
was to support and guide her during her ordeal. Once she was fully attached the hook
rose slightly causing her to rise up on the balls of her feet. Her robe opened
slightly in front but she was in no position to object.
Tracey hung from the ceiling of the lodge and looked out at many eager and happy old
faces looking back at her. She saw Mr. Chambers walking toward her with a large pair
of cutting shears in his right hand. She quickly lost sight of him but she could
feel him behind her as he began cutting at her robe.
“Please Mr. Chambers don’t do this” she heard herself beg him. I am not sure I can
take it.”
He did not respond but made one long incision up the back of the robe and two over
the shoulders and up her sleeves. Once complete he joined the three incisions with a
long diagonal cut.
Tracey felt the cut up robe go slack but it still hung to her back and shoulders.
The cigar smoke lay heavy in the air as Mr. Chambers moved to Tracey’s front right
and looked to the crowd. Milking the wonderful anticipation, he finally looked to
the young girl now begging him for mercy said loudly, “ Gentlemen I present to you
Miss Tracey Smith!”
With that he pulled the robe free of Tracey’s body in one full motion.
The cord of the white robe dropped to the floor but the rest remained in his hand.
He walked to the front row and threw it to the crowd as if to amplify the point that
she was to remain naked for the rest of the evening.
Tracey’s young and pert breasts pointed proudly at the gathering of lodge men. With
her arms dramatically above her head her breasts appeared to be set very high on her
body and they looked slightly larger than they actually were.
The men had initially cheered as the robe was torn from Tracey but quickly grew
quiet as they took in the full measure of her nakedness. Tracey looked beautifully
prepared as she addressed the lodge for her very big night.
Tracy had a tanned and flat belly that gave way to a small brown strip of hair that
decorated her pubic region perfectly. Her nipples were rock hard as she looked out
over them at the large assembly of men.
The room again buzzed as Mr. Chambers slowly turned Tracey to reveal her round
bottom to the crowd. It was a firm young muscle that rose powerfully from her toned
legs capped by two small dimples that sat on her lower back.
A younger man near the front said audibly, “Damn Girl.” Many of those around him
laughed and Tracey was glad her face was pointed to the back of the stage as she
felt herself blush deeply.
Mr. Chambers walked back to the podium and made another announcement as Tracey
slowly swung back towards center stage.
“per the lodge bylaws, Tracey will remain in position from the time she receives her
swats until the time we close our meeting. Anyone who wishes to speak to her or have
their picture taken with her will have plenty of time to do this. Please be assured
that we will not close the meeting until everyone has had a chance to visit with
Tracey.”
“Oh my god” Tracey thought behind watery eyes, “he is going to leave me here while
he makes his acceptance speech.”
Mr. Chambers continued, “Also, in order to fund many of the projects I will outline
in my speech, my son Brian will be digitally recording the punishment today. Anyone
who would like a copy please let an elder know as they will be available for $50
each starting early next week.
The crowd buzzed again with eagerness as they anticipated the now immanent paddling
from Ol Whistler. Many had heard stories from the early days about both the paddle’s
unique sound and it’s dastardly effect but nobody still living had actually ever
seen it used.
Even when it had been last employed back in the 1940’s and early 1950’s it had
presumably never been used on a woman. Much less a woman as fair as young Tracey.
Tracey hung naked and motionless as Mr. Chambers made the last of the lodge
announcements and she looked toward the men of her lodge that were about to watch
her punishment. Her freshly washed hair set delicately upon her shoulders and her
recently manicured fingernails held the note cards of the speech that she would now
not deliver high above her head.
She watched and saw that people were leaving the bar area in the back of the large
hall and were moving toward the front to get the best possible view of her lodge
paddling. Her body filled with a horrible dread as she looked at the ancient and
wicked paddle that lay across Mr. Chambers podium as he spoke.
She heard a slight commotion just to her left and saw two men bringing out a sturdy
looking wooden sawhorse. It was covered with a torn piece of saddle leather. It
appeared to have no padding on its top and looked as if it had been hastily pulled
from a long forgotten storage room.
As she looked at the sawhorse she felt the hook pull to the left and slowly lay her
over it. Her hands remained pulled above her head and well past the bench but her
feet now rested mostly on the floor behind it. She felt the pressure in her
shoulders ease. Tracey looked directly stage left leaving her full profile visible
to the lodge men and other onlookers.
As she was set into her final position, she felt Brian’s thick hand rubbing some
sort of greasy ointment across her bare bottom as if dressing it for the paddle. As
he finished he gave her ass a playful swat and her behind danced briefly as if to
provide a preview of the feature attraction that now lay seconds away.
As Mr. Chambers picked up “Ol Whistler” and walked toward Tracey the crowd quieted
to a whisper. Even the bartenders had now left their post to get the best possible
view. One was eating a hot dog. The room was motionless and silent as Mr. Chambers
pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket.
Tracey could hear him reading some lines of prepared text about her breaking of the
sacred rules but she could not comprehend the words. It was quite clear to all the
price she was about to pay for casting two votes in her election.
She looked down at the floor and waited for it to begin. She was held firm by the
sawhorse and the tugging from the shy hook. To her front and right she saw Brian
checking the preset video cameras that had been busy at work recording her
humiliation for viewers not yet known or seen.
As Tracey Smith silently waited for the first kiss from Ol Whistler a Brian began a
close up on her face and she began to quietly cry from the dreadful anticipation
almost as if on cue.
Finished with his quick speech, Mr. Chambers moved behind Tracey and slightly to her
left. The crowd watched silently as he raised the paddle above his head for the
first of what had been promised to be 50 swats on Tracey’s bare bottom.
As the paddle then began its furious decent from the long distant past it made a
loud and distinctive whistling sound. It cut through the air with a slicing sound
that was unfamiliar to all the men in the room but not so unfamiliar to the men
whose frozen faces lay in the pictures that hung in the lobby beyond the great
hall.
It landed loudly and flatly on Tracey’s outstretched behind.
Tracey then let loose a long wail that surprised nearly every onlooker. What they
all had no way of knowing was that this was an involuntary reaction that reached way
back into the now long lost lore of Ol Whistler. The wail was universal and the long
gone members of the lodge all knew that men and woman alike all wailed the same once
they were bitten by the Ol Whistler.
This began a cadence of whistling and wailing that was to continue on in the lodge
for quite some time.
After the first blow the men howled in delight at both the sound of the paddle and
the ensuing rise of the cry. In spite of their glee they quickly quieted so not to
miss the next stroke upon Tracey’s upturned round ass.
Tracey had never before felt such a pain. It was as if at once struck by a car and
bitten by a snake. It bounced her hard against the saw horse and it also felt
instantly as if her whole bottom had been set ablaze. As the first stroke ragged
through her it was incomprehensible to Tracey that she could much further survive
it.
Tracey struggled a bit to breath as the harsh paddling continued on behind her. Her
cries grew louder in their intensity and they filled every corner of the large
lodge. The distinctive wail could even be heard well down the industrial street
beyond the buildings walls.
Tracey’s ass quickly reddened to a bright hue. As the paddle unflinchingly continued
its work on her young bottom, the firm muscle that was at its core danced constantly
under the power of the old paddle.
Whistle and wail, whistle and wail, it was a wonderful music that filled the lodge.
Tracey began a beg of mercy at about the tenth stroke. To the delight of all she
begged Mr. Chambers to stop the spanking. As she would begin to get her words out
she would again be stuck by the paddle.
The words would then dissolve into a long wail. It was perfect theater and it only
improved with every performance. She abandoned the strategy about ten strokes
later.
Seeing Tracey’s reaction to the early strokes of her paddling Mr. Chambers smiled
broadly, he was thrilled that the old legend of the paddle was indeed true. He
sustained Tracey’s expressed discomfort very well.
The men of the lodge absolutely delighted in the continuing spanking of Tracey
Smith. They sucked on their bourbon and they watched her poorly endure this old
ritual with a happiness the old lodge had never really known. They felt like real
lodge men as they watched Tracey cry and dance underneath the continuing sinister
blows from Ol Whistler.
The lodge spanking continued with its dreadful rhythm of whistling and wailing
without any sign of slowing down or stopping. It turns out that 50 is a pretty big
number for the Ol Whistler.
Mr. Chambers was to conduct the punishment of Tracey Smith that night without any
mercy in the least. He long knew that if he ever found a reason to strip and paddle
Tracey it would be the biggest sensation that his lodge had ever seen. Once she
handed him that reason, he was to punish her fully.
He continued to his work.
Not a man in attendance that evening felt the least bit bad for the girl under the
power of the whistling paddle. Later, when all the speeches were done the men would
all crowd onto the stage and have pictures taken of Tracey and her naked red bottom.
It would become a point of pride to say “I was there the night they paddled Tracey
Smith.“
In spite of herself, Tracey was to become a legend at the lodge she so disliked. The
men would talk of her paddling and share its viewing with future generations of men
for as long as it would be possible to imagine. Under Mr. Chambers continued
leadership the lodge saw record membership the next year and also saw strict
compliance with all the bylaws.
Strangely, the increase in female membership never really materialized.
Tracey had run her campaign platform on the promise to “breath some life into this
old place!” and somewhat unwittingly she had kept true to her promise. Her run for
President of the lodge had not been a great success but it had provided the lodge
with the defining moment that would propel it forward.
Oddly it was not modernization that would lead the lodge back to prosperity but a
return to good old fashion values.
Although the humiliated Tracey would never again set foot in the lodge or ever again
see her old boss Mr. Chambers, the image of her stretched across the saw horse would
long linger in the memories of all the men who were part of her big night in front
of the men.
Today there are two new pictures that hang in the inner lobby at the lodge. One is a
picture of Tracey addressing the members while working hard on the campaign trail.
The second is a picture of her was taken after she was punished for election
rigging.
It is very rare that any visitor doesn’t stop and take a good long look at them.
Today they both hang proudly beneath the paddle they call Ol Whistler.
Back to T Collection :::::|::::: back to main page