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“Get the fuck out of here now!” It was Sandra crying from the floor. I reached down and grabbed her by the handcuffs that held her wrists together...in front of her naked body. I used these to yank her off of the floor. She protested as I flung her roughly onto the bed, where she landed next to the prone and outstretched body of her naked daughter.“You fucking bastard!” Sandra screamed as I pulled her arms upward and refastened the handcuffs so that her wrists were now bound to the horizontal bed. I liked watching her asshole and pussy balance on the sharp edge while I slapped her tits with a leather strap I made. Second I had a hoist with rope. I’d tie her hands over her head hoisting her up to her tippy toes. She would struggle to stand still as my whips cracked her body. April always cums when she is hit. But to make her squirt, I have to work her up to and that’s what these were for. And also my pleasure. I enjoyed beating her, I loved to hear her cry. I loved to hear her have a. " All I'm saying is just wait, sweetie. If the surprise is lessthan fulfilling, you can... pick something, anything, that's howsure I am." Sandy, please," I begged."Sorry, Jessica, this is between you girls. I'm staying out ofit". -----------------------------------------------------------------------Everyday I'd ask Lisa, "Please tell me. The suspense is killingme." And everyday she'd say, "Thirteen days." Or "Twelve days."On the upside, however, she stopped sounding like Kane from KungFu.A. The sort of place you might find in a side street of a French city, with food so good you wondered why the chef hadn’t made a career somewhere bigger.I had snails in garlic butter to start and she had carpaccio of beef, sliced so thin it looked like the pattern on the plate rather than food on top of it. We both had coq au vin to follow and we shared a bottle of Julienas, a Beaujolais.The wine soon relaxed us and we chatted happily. She told me about her childhood in Marseille and how she had.
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