402 lines
27 KiB
Plaintext
402 lines
27 KiB
Plaintext
Archive-name: Bondage/emilhous.txt
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Archive-author:
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Archive-title: Emily's House
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My initial introduction to severe spanking and domination
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happened at the hands of a guy named Ted, whom I met through one
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of the BBSs to which I belong. Ted is a bright, educated guy, an
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engineer by trade, and a dominant by choice. We had corresponded
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on that board for a long time before he finally came to town.
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When he announced that he would be here, I could think of no
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excuse at all to refuse meeting him. That the session ended up
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with me nude, face down but raised up over the end of the couch,
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my naked bottom turned towards the ceiling, my ankles pulled
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apart and tied to each leg of the couch-- in a perfect position
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to be instructed, that is what I expected in advance. In fact, I
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had made him promise that when he got me that he would absolutely
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not let me talk him out of giving me a spanking. I certainly did
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not have to worry about that, as it turned out.
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He took a long time admiring the view, probed here and there with
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his fingers, then found an erect nipple and pinched and pinched,
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until he made me tell him where the strop was. It was hanging on
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a hook on the inside of the door (you hear that, Ken? Remember
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it for future reference. You may well want to use it yourself.)
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He took the strop, gave it a few trial swings, and then,
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TTTHHHWWSWWACK!!!! A murderous, burning swipe across both cheeks
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of my rump... this followed after a long interval by another, and
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another. He quickly had me crying for mercy, for forgiveness.
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Did I get mercy? No. I got a hot oil injection, firmly squirted
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into my anus by a large, thick, rigid cock. And afterwards I
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was given the privelege to suck it clean.
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Comparing that session to the one I had at Emily"s house is
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difficult for me, because in a way they were so different. The
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first one, described above, I always felt in control even though
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my hands were fastened behind me. Any time I really wanted him
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to stop, I think he would have. At Emily's, she (Emily) was
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fully in control, and being another woman, had a better
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understanding of what I could take, and resolved, I am sure, to
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take me all the way there, and beyond. Now she did not wield the
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crop, Doris did. But she was in charge of the event, the
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mistress of ceremonies, so to speak- have no doubt about that.
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When I was invited (or ordered, if you prefer) there for a hen
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party and a dinner, I had no idea what was going to happen. Lets
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face it, she and I were no longer social friends, but I was in
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no position to refuse, so I duly showed up, suitably dressed for
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a social dinner with 8 or 9 women present. Early on, there was
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no obvious sign that this was going to be different from a
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thousand similar parties we both have been to. An elegant dinner
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was offered, beautifully prepared and served. Oh yes, Emily does
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do things correctly, even to the Nth degree. The conversation
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was lively and intelligent, ranging wide over every possible
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subject. Later on, however, the tone of the conversation
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changed, and Emily announced in words that I cannot really
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remember that this was a special occasion- that present was the
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person who had helped break up her marriage, etc, etc. Everybody
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chimed in at that point, and however it worked conversationally,
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I ended up nude ,with my wrists behind me, tied. Doris had a
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metal clip that winds through the hair and locks, and to it, a
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long cord attached that she tossed over a ceiling beam. There I
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stood, totally helpless, now very fearful of this particular
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event. I did not feel that I had any control at all over what
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would happen, and considering that Emily was still very angry at
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me, I foresaw real problems, and did not have the feeling that
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the other ladies present were going to be supportive in the least
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measure. It's almost funny- Hilde told me later that Emily had
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told the others that there was going to be "special
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entertainment" that evening- she had not told me that, but maybe
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that was because I was going to be the special entertainment.
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Who knows what the others were expecting- I am sure that nobody
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else knew, but I have an idea that Hilde, who really knows Emily
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the best, had a pretty good idea. What Doris knew in advance is
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hard to say. That one never says much anyway.
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Doris did her particular specialty after blindfolding me--
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gentle, stimulating caresses of the nipples, guaranteed to arouse
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one and erect those nipples no matter how frightened and
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apprehensive you might be. And when they were suitably erect, a
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final pinch, and then those metal spring clips attached, first
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one and then the other. And soon enough, her searching finger
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between my legs, probes, finds moisture, finds an erecting clit,
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massages it so that it is standing fully at attention, and
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another clip attached to it-- all three together now applying a
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kind of hideous metallic caress that never stops.
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Try to understand- I was totally embarrassed, absolutely under
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Emily's control, and terrified, and at the same time, excited
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almost beyond belief, perhaps sexier than I have ever been,
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before or since. I now knew what to expect- I was going to get a
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total thrashing, specifically for the entertainment of the ladies
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present (who had been selected, I am sure for their potential
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enjoyment of that kind of thing). In the meantime, I have been
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incredibly aroused, and clips attached to my most vulnerable
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points. My nipples are up as hard as steel, and gripped in the
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unyielding clasp of the clips, and my clit also has been aroused
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and clipped. I am almost expecting that Emily will have Doris
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insert one of those special suppositories in my anus- the kind
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that makes you think you have a hot iron up there- like she had
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done to me before. No, not this time, though I do not know why
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not, and obviously I do not ask. And finally, I am incredibly
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aroused- almost at the point of orgasm- but I do not want to have
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that orgasm. No, not this way, in front of this audience (which
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obviously was very interested, and would have applauded wildly).
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Now Emily is seated comfortably, and asks me for my version of
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the relationship with her ex. I tell her the truth- that we had
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been together at a Christmas party, and he kissed me under the
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mistletoe, but nothing more- that day. " What about the next
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day", she inquires, and I confess that we had done some juvenile
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petting, with him maybe kissing my titties, and sliding his hand
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up under my skirt-- hardly enough for all this to-do right now.
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She gives the sign to Doris, and the crop flashes, whacking me
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severely across the rump, making me gasp, and making some unseen
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female titter. I dance, I shake, but I have nowhere to go.
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Again she asks, and I confess that later I had let him take my
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panties down. That day he gave my pussy a sweet kiss. At that I
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get a sweet kiss, too- by the crop, again across the rump. I am
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really fearful now, and crying, begging to be let go. Nobody
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will have any of that, and I get another slash with the crop for
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even asking. Emily is leading the confessional now- she wants to
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know what happened next- of course, she already knows, that that
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same day I had taken his cock into my mouth, but nothing more. I
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admit that, get another shot with the crop for it, and I am
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screaming, practically hysterical now, because I do not know how
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much farther this is going to go. I also do not know that there
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is a video camera set up, and I am going to be the star of the
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film that is being taken this very minute. Emily wants to know
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about his fucking me, and I swear that it never happened. Nobody
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believes me now, and the punishment continues, worse than I ever
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got before. My confession is extracted from me, and by now after
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a dozen or more stokes of that crop, I will confess to anything,
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and confess I do to seducing him every which way, to fucking for
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him vaginally, orally, anally, you name it- she asked me and I
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confessed to it. Almost as an after thought, she had me confess
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to putting her down in her husband's eye, to claim that she was a
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sexless thing and that real joy could only be had from a real
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woman (obviously like me). The ladies thought that this was the
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ultimate insult- this whore badmouthing Emily to him, a good,
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innocent wife. Innocent, hah!!!). Somebody suggests that my
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mouth be washed out with soap for that- and it is duly done, with
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a strong laundry soap. Doris fetched a bar, a large chunk was
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broken off and stuffed in my mouth for fun. Not much fun,
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believe me.
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Now think about Doris a moment- an attractive black lady, about
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35-no education whatever. Will she be interested in playing
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executioner today? Of course. Perhaps it is a racial thing, or
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perhaps the result of unintended slights towards her on my part
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in the past which she has misinterpreted on a personal basis.
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Whichever, she would be delighted to give this delicious honky
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bitch a spanking. Is it in the culture? I have heard that give
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a black woman the chance to work over a blonde whore- especially
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one who has been fucking around with black men, and the thrashing
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will be earth shaking. She has worked for Emily for years as
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house maid, perhaps confidant, and if it turns out that Charles
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had been fucking her on the side, I wouldn't be a bit surprised.
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If it is also true that Doris had been servicing Emily in her own
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way- like giving her sweet massages and the like- I not only
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would not be surprised but am rather sure that this is so. I
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don't think that they had a total bi-relationship, but I don't
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know.
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Now understand the cropping. I am standing, my hair holding me
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upright. Doris is an artist with that crop, and she has me
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bobbing and dancing, kicking, even leaping, and certainly
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screaming. None of it makes a bit of difference- I am not going
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anywhere until I am released, and that will certainly not be
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until Emily is satisfied. And you do know Emily. She is little
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and she is cute, but she is very strong and determined, and she
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WILL have her pound of flesh in revenge. Step onto her patch
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only on her terms. Go beyond that, invade her privacy, take what
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is hers at your peril. This was the lesson being taught me, and
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perhaps being taught the ladies in the audience. She felt no
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compunction about giving a whore a thrashing, and I was- had I
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not already confessed it?
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And when I got the cropping that day- much more severe by the
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way, it was in part because she really did believe that I had
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been fucking her husband (and believes it to this day) and wanted
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my full confession. She got it, true or false. And when I had
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confessed- which was absolutely believed by the other ladies
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present, the consensus was that I was a slut who was getting what
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she deserved- a comeuppance that tramps deserve but rarely get.
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The fact that Emily had the pictures and I could not let them get
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out and therefore she owned me- they did not know that. All they
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knew was that this whoring slut, who had seduced Emily's husband
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plus who-knows-who else, who might be making an unknown play for
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the husband of any of the ladies present, she was getting a
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richly deserved lesson, written on her ass by a luscious black
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maid. The fact that I look the way I do and sometimes have a
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haughty air did not help. Take this slut down a peg or two-you
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know. The ladies watched every stroke approvingly, and nobody
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protested that the punishment exceeded the crime. Later, when
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either Emily or Doris asked if a volunteer might provide a
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chocolate eclair to be served as a special penance, they had no
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problem at all getting a volunteer to go to the bathroom and to
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produce one on one of Emily's fine china plates, to be sure. And
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who fed me that eclair, of course using one of Emily's sterling
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silver dessert spoons? Doris? Emily? The volunteer? I don't
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know. You asked how large was that eclair, and I respond that I
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don't really know. I remember it as being sufficiently large to
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do the task intended- to humiliate me totally in front of that
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audience- who likely would have applauded had it been twice as
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large. All I know is that it was large enough, that I was fed it
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all, and was in no position to debate the point- nor the tall
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glass of lemonade which was offered me to wash down my special
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treat. You might ask if any of the others were shocked at this.
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Well, they had seen it happen before their eyes, perhaps as a
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logical extension of this tramp being punished in Emily's
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particular way, and who would say that she was wrong? Certainly
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none of them would.
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All I know is that I had received a cropping- a cruelly
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efficient one given under the most exotic and erotic
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circumstances possible, before a very interested audience. I
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know that Doris had me bobbing and weaving, crying and begging
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for forgiveness for a crime that I did not commit, and if these
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ladies in the audience had been a jury, I am sure that this
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sentence given me would have been even more extreme. If anybody
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had suggested that they put a brand on my bottom, I am certain
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that the group would have agreed, perhaps unanimously. And of
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course, adding to the overall flavor of the moment is that the
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whole thing was being videotaped, in full, glorious color and
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sound, for posterity to view. Crime and Punishment- or better
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yet, Crime, Confession, and Punishment-- how's that for a title.
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It has a sort of Russian Ring to it, doesn't it? Something
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Dostoyevsky might have written.
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I must point out as an afterthought that what terrified me most
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during this session, was that one of the women suggest that they
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shave off my hair- both on my head and pubic. This is a
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particular punishment that now and then whores have gotten,
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especially in the South. I have no doubt that had it been
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suggested that it might well have happened. Supposing they had
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given me the choice- stand there as I was, in the clips, not to
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be released until I specifically asked for THAT punishment.
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Sooner or later I would have asked.
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Think of me writing this letter to you. Right now, I am nude,
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and after talking to you, have followed your instructions. I
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have that large, black rubber dildo inserted in my anus, all 9"
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of it. I have retrieved my nipple clip set. I have a clip on
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each, very erect nipple, and another one on my clit. My pussy is
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creamy. I am just on the verge of orgasm, and I am pretending
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that you have told me that I would be severely punished if I let
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myself cumm. I am going to disobey deliberately. I am too close
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to cumming to hold back, and even if it means that I get a
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thrashing, that I get my bottom basted with a leather strop for
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being "bad", that is what I am and that is what I deserve.
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I am trying to convince you to face up to the beginning of our
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meeting- the need for you to take total control and assume full
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authority for the session. In order for this to work, it seems
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to me that the preliminary part of the session needs to
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concentrate on past events- an analysis of past promises made and
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not kept, of recent questions asked where answered have been
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avoided, or when answered, with inadequate response. In other
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words, the student's shortcomings need to be enumerated, and some
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suitable form of instruction be offered. In this case, it seems
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to me that punishment in some form ABSOLUTELY MUST be the first
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part of the program. If not, all else is doomed to fail.
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Considering this student, I would suggest that her nudity is
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essential to the proceedings. In fact, I can visualize it. You
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have ordered her to answer the doorbell totally nude. When you
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arrive, instead she is wearing something very provocative,
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perhaps a baby-doll and high heels. This is an immediate
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violation of her instructions. You step in, see that she has
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begun by disobeying. Perhaps you grab her by the hair and spin
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her around. Perhaps, you give her a stinging slap in the face, a
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lesson that obedience is demanded and that nothing less will be
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tolerated. You know that her bedroom is upstairs and that her
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"toys" are hidden there. You pull the baby dolls off her,
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looking, of course, at her full breasts and erect nipples. You
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take each nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinching hard.
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You pull off her panties, order her to turn around, gaze at her
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delicious, full bottom. You pinch her ass, hard. And now you
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order her to lead you up the stairs to the bedroom.
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As she climbs the steps before you, her naked bottom undulating
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before your eyes, I am sure that you will study it with pleasure,
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knowing the joys that it can offer you if it has been properly
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prepared and persueded. Perhaps at the moment of truth she will
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plead with you, beg you not to spank her-perhaps she will offer
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you exotic sex instead. DO NOT ACCEPT THAT OFFER.
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If you do, a quick orgasm is all you will get. Insist that the
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proceedings go forward, exactly as planned. TAKE COMMAND. Make
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her show you where the toys are kept. Make her show you the
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crop, the tawse, and the cane, all hanging on a hook in her
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closet, all fully ready to participate in taming this hellcat.
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Look in the box of toys. See the clips, three together on the
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silver chain, ready to be attached to those delicious appendages.
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See the dildos, the butt pluggers, erect and sturdy andready to
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do their part in stretching those wonderful openings for you.
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And now TELL HER WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO DO!!. Make her understand
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whois master in these preceedings.
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Should her hands be tied behind her? Of course. Now, some means
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need be found to give her real fear, to make her understand
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totally that you HAVE TAKEN COMMAND. I suggest that she be spun
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face down on her own bed, her delicious ass nude, upturned and
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awaiting some definitive action on your part. She does not yet
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know what to expect from you. You know where the bamboo cane is,
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long and slim and lithe. Take it, swish it in the air a few
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times so that she can hear the unmistakeable sound that it makes.
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And now- GIVE IT TO HER- THHHHHHHWWWWWWWWWAACCCCKKKKKKK!!! a
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shocker, a real slash across her rump, across both upturned
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cheeks. See the firey red line appear almost instantly. Hear
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her shocked scream as the horrible burning sensation peaks, and
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lingers on. And hear the strange tone in her voice, at once
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fearful, knowing that she is helpless. Her husband is away, and
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nothing will save her from you giving her whatever you think she
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deserves. You will be judge and jury, and even executioner of
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whatever punishment you think is appropriate. And she can
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absolutely depend on it, her feminine wiles will get her nothing-
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except perhaps to get he punished even more. You have that cane
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and can and will give her just as much of it as you please. Now
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tell her what you are going to do, that you will train her in
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obedience, that she will have to account for all her bad behavoir
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in the past--and as you tell her, at regular slow intervals,
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THHHHHWWWWWWWWWAAAACCCCCKKKKKK-- sign your autograph on her
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delcious, plump ass, using that fierce rattan cane as your pen.
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And all this time, think about that green box that she has hidden
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away somewhere. She would never show it to you, never want you
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to see the photographs, see the intimate letters, and especially,
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never want you to see that video tape. Of course not. She would
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never willingly show you these. But her master, rattan cane in
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hand may have a few different ideas about that. Why, I would bet
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that she would not only show them to him, she could even be
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induced to beg for the privelege of looking at them.
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Now hear her beg for the opportunity to please you, hear her
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offer those delights she has refused in the past. She begs for
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the chance to show how good she can be. Can she suck your rigid
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cock? Would you like to give her a taste of your golden stream,
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directly into her open mouth, as she swallows every drop? You
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can have that. Do you want her hot tongue probing into your
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moist asshole? She is aghast at this, but now would be glad, to,
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no delighted to do that for you. Would you rather fuck her sweet
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asshole, using only her saliva as lubrication, and then later,
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offer your now-brown stained erection so that she could clean it
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for you with her tongue?
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No, not yet. Oh yes, she will have ample opportunity to show
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that she is fully docile, fully trained. But first, her master
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has a few scores to settle with her, and that green box is
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certainly one of them. And this rattan cane, with which he has
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already expressed his displeasure, is the perfect instrument to
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train this bitch, to reduced her to the state that all she wants
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to do is please her master, no matter what, no matter how.
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Now, an hour has passed. She is relaxing, as much as it is
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possible to relax with the fierce metal clips carresssing her
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nipples and her clit- and of course, with that hideous, 14"
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rubber dildo that her master has slowly forced into her anus, and
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where it rests now. He has, of course, given her the opportunity
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to look at the green box- and no matter how much she hated for
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him to see the contents, the alternative, further strokes of that
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awful cane, were even worse. So while she suffers, he looks at
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the box.
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Right now, he is looking at a sheaf of pictures, all very
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pornographic, showing Helen in one after another disgusting pose-
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fucking, sucking, being reamed, being spanked, getting an enema,
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sucking the cunny of a lovely black lady. She will be punished,
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certainly for all these transgressions. But right now he has a
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problem. He has a raging hardon, and besides that, a totally
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full, even uncomfortably full bladder. What to do about that?
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Well, at the state they are at, perhaps the first thing he will
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do with the golden stream is to use it to oil her tonsils- to let
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her suck it all down, every drop, every last drop. On the other
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hand, maybe he will pull that huge dildo out of her butt, and use
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this stream of hot piss as a natural enema.
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And afterwards, what then? He has a friend, a large, husky
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blonde lady, a policewoman named Hilda. He knows that Hilda
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likes nothing better than having her cunt sucked, and the thought
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of giving a stropping to a whore would probably be very appealing
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to her. Should he call Hilda and invite her over? That idea is
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pleasant to think about. Another idea comes to mind. Heare is
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Helen's address book, and here is a listing for Doris, the black
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maid whose picture he has already seen. He wonders if Doris
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would like to come over and feed Helen another eclair- another
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idea with strong interest to him. Well, whatever he decides to
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do, he has plenty of time. He is not expected home until
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tomorrow, and certainly she is going nowhere until he decides to
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release her.
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--
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