His eyes narrowed, and he yanked on the makeshift leash. "You're coming with me, little bitch. Up, now."She sobbed. "I--I'm-- not--" she hiccupped. He...yanked on the leash before she could finish, just starting to drag her whether she got up or not. The belt was sturdy and held her weight. He dragged her over every rock in their path until she got up and stumbled along behind him, insisting, "I'm not a slave." He responded by yanking the belt forward and grabbing her hair, dragging her along. He. When reached the stream, we tied up the horses and sat on the grass.We talked for sometime about what Chris and I did. How I loved the wind in my hair when we rode. I didn't like riding in jeans and a blouse. I wanted to wear a skirt when we rode. The conversation turned to boys and Lisa was surprised that I could keep up with the conversation. I love to talk about the boys. Lisa asked about what boys said about girls. I told her that I knew.Lisa asked “Why do you want to dress like a. More

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