There's A Pillory In The Back Yard

The Black woman led the naked reporter through the house. It smelled of tobacco, marijuana, incense, and odd cooking smells. There were smoke-stains on the walls and ceiling, piles of clothing and stacks of pornographic magazine teetering everywhere, but no bugs or food-stains that Lois could see—and then they came to the sliding glass door.

The yard was small, a patch of grass barely as large as a queen-sized bed. Completely fenced in, and the fences were all unusually high, and none of the facing houses had second-story windows facing down—a particularly tall basketball player might be able look down into the yard, but only if they were an immediate neighbor.

Which is why, no doubt, the cab driver had felt secure in placing a pillory in the middle of it.

Lois had seen reproductions of this once, in a museum in London. A pole set in concrete rose up to a thick wooden board, hinged on one side, with three holes in it—a large one for the next, and two smaller ones for the hands. Standing outside the clear glass door, Lois instinctively wrapped her arm over her chest to cover her nipples, her other hand down between her legs to cover her pussy.

The older woman opened the door, her grey dreads shaking.

"C'mon. Get out," she slapped the reporter's bare ass.

Hesitantly, Lois stepped out onto the grass. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt actual grass beneath her bare feet. The reporter looked around, barely repressing a shiver. Being naked outdoors, even when no one could see you, took a little getting used to.

Not that the Black woman gave her the time.

"Go on," she slapped the reporter's other cheek, which brought a flush to Lois Lane's face. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but it wasn't this...yet that little voice seemed to say in her head:

Go on. Do it. It might be fun.

Which is how, hesitant as a dear on the edge of the woods, Lois found herself step delicately into the middle of that tiny yard...place her head and hands into the slots on the pillory, glad that the wood had been worn smooth...and then her heart skipped a beat as the board came back down and locked in place.