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My feet were then released. And the cameras roamed. I could not see what tools were chosen from the table, but I was seldom wrong if I thought of a wh...p. And, predictably, then flogged my ass with a riding crop, carefully, systematically. One ass cheek at a time. The same number of blows each. One of the problems these evil people had was with the stocks: unless the apertures were perfectly padded and fitted, my frantic struggles could lacerate my neck and wrists. This device was perfection in. Aisha brought her face to the ground, "Mistress," she cried, "I am to report on whatever I see, true, but you can always restrain me elsewhere, blindfold me or cover my ears; I cannot report on what I haven't seen or heard."The crying slave girl kissed Lila's feet, her tears falling on her toes, "I am afraid of the sheik. I am not like you. I am not a good slave; I am always afraid. Please don't send me away."Lila bent down and pulled Aisha to her feet. She hugged the sobbing girl to her chest,. " Pointing, "Over there against the couch." Mary walked over, now ignoring her own nakedness, and helped her sobbing mother to kneel facing the crowd.David's mom came over and handed Mary a light cord from the wall coverings. It would take many strikes for the cord to harm the middle-aged woman's buttocks. The current drama was more for effect than to harm. Mary's shaking hand lifted her mom's loose skirt up over her ass and lay it upon her back. Mrs. Wilson hadn't worn any underwear last. " they rounded the point and Tom started the motor, "the wind's backed even more and it'd be a dead beat along Collier's Reach, but we'd probably manage the rest under sail. I must admit I'd be happier berthed at the quay. I rather think the weather's going to deteriorate."Indeed, having motored the mile past Heybridge, they were able to sail the last mile or so and slip into Peewit's berth under sail. It was half an hour before high water. They did a harbour stow and made sure Peewit was.
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