Carry On Cleo Quotes

I want you!” he yells, his short reply unable to conceal his anger. “In my playroom. In my bed. Over my knee so I can spank the sass right out of you. You think you’re confused, Cleo? Try being me. I’ve never wanted this. I’ve never carried a sub out of my playroom and put her in my bed. I’ve never introduced her to my bandmates. I’ve never wanted to mark every inch of her skin so everyone knows she is mine. I want that with you. I want you!

Some pull back. Some cry. Some scrabble for crying babies, rot-gutted women, soft-eyed men, shivering children clustered about us in the dim cold before dawn. To this death before death. To this selling. Nan and Cleo and my mother talked about what it was to be sold—we all did, since we heard stories about what it was like, stories carried from one farm to another, one work camp to another. Bog bottomed, the boy sent to trade scrap metal with our blacksmith said. Manacle awash, the man sent to trade livestock said. Smoked and sunk, the farrier sent through the rice counties to shoe horses said. Hell, my mother said, and more of us marching there every day.