And three blows had descended before I remembered that I was supposed to count them.Or rather he reminded me. He stopped and said, "Right, sissy. We'l... start again. And this time, you'll count and thank me." Yes, Sir... One, Sir. Thank you, Sir."Waiting for the blow is worse than the blow itself I soon discovered. He did not beat me with a regular rhythm, nor did his belt always land on the same spot. And while I dreaded each blow, and my mind continued to worry about such things as whether my. Once she took off her left stocking, she slapped her ass and moved her hand all over her leg; he knew what she was asking for. Money. Cold, hard cash is what she wanted, and he opened his briefcase, for he learned long ago that she loved the thrill of exchange, the idea of money being given to her because of her surreally beautiful pair of legs.He started giving her smaller bills but quickly realized that she wasn’t in the mood for change and small things today; she wanted three digits, the big. More

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