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I had hope. Maybe the three of us would get a chance to gang up on him. We cut cards and Buffy lost. I felt sorry for her but was still happy I had won. We did not get a chance to gang up. He took us out one by one to handcuff us to telephone poles in front of the jail. Then he brought out Buffy with her hands cuffed behind her back. He led her over to a strange contraption. It was like a ricksha but much cruder with iron pipes running from an axle with go cart wheels to bend to fit a girls waist and an old iron tractor seat on a springy piece of steel that was welded to the axle. He led Buffy between the pipes and buckled a wide leather strap from the pipes to her waist.
The next part was horrifying. He reached into a sack and brought out two huge fish hooks with nylon line tied to them and drove the points clear through poor Buffy’s nipples ignoring her screams. He reached down to the ground to get a long leather whip then got into the tractor seat putting the handle of the whip into another pipe.