Yes, you shouldn't be late meeting the new boss.

After several failed attempts you finally arrive at the large cul-de-sac in the northeastern corner of the fairgrounds. To your right is the sizable Westmooring Security tent. Across the way on the left is the “Witch-With-a-B Dunking Booth.” All the way to the north is the first aid building, ironically next to a booth selling leather goods called “Crack the Whip.”

In the middle of the cul-de-sac, on a wide brick circle that raises a few inches above the street, are a pair of two pillories side by side to each other, about three feet apart. They are in the traditional configuration, straight out of the witch trial era, with a board with three holes for the wrists and head vertical to the ground, attached to two posts. The outer posts for each are about four foot high, but the inner posts look about seven feet, with an iron ring on each side so a third person could be bound standing up between the two pillories. It is not the devices of colonial humiliation that captivates your attention, however, but the girl next to the pillories that now rivets your gaze.

Fittingly, she is dressed in some sort of bandit or rogue costume, with black high leather boots, cloth pants, leather wrist bracers and a black leather jerkin, all of which are crisscrossed with various belts, pouches and toy daggers. The costume is so well done it looks like is from a Hollywood set. Though cut in a conservatively and sensibly fashion the outfit cannot fully conceal her knockout figure: Buxom and with a killer ass, the dark leather contrasts and highlights her alabaster slightly tanned skin and the pleasant softness of her feminine curves.

Glimpsing her face completes your enthrallment: Almost shoulder length dark brown hair with chestnut highlights, sexy full lips, cute button nose, and with the right application of minimal makeup, this girl is stunning. Her eyes in particular are bewitching - a dark hazel blue conveying a wonderful mixture of intelligence and kindness.

Giving your head a quick shake you regain your composure after realizing you have come to a dead stop. Fortunately, she is equally preoccupied, not noticing your juvenile gawking. She seems lost in her own thought as her finger gently runs across the metal ring attached to one of the large pillory posts and then slowly takes firm hold of it as if testing its strength.