Christine shrieked as each was applied and was crying continuously when the last was laid across her cheeks. Mark placed his hand on Christine’s bot...om and felt the welts. Christine was obediently still grasping her ankles. Mark urged her to her feet. He said, “One more implement to try, Christine: the hairbrush.” Mark walked back over to the table in the corner and retrieved the brush. It was an oval, flat-backed wooden brush with a head about 4 inches in diameter. He walked over to the bed. She told me the address and I scribbled it down fast, wanting to get to this place and see what the problem was. I was so pissed, that I didn't recognize the address, until I pulled up to the street. Then it hit me, it was Ms. H's house. You remember her, the horny house wife whose husband cheats on her. The one I gave a mind blowing orgasm to not three days ago. I was still pissed off as I got out of my truck, and headed to the door. I knocked on it a bit hard. The door swung open, and there. More

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