I am familiar with masters who simply line up their students outside their door and then dispatch their canings in rapid succession, giving no thought...to anything beyond the mere wielding of the instrument. They are little better than a machine and this is not effective. You must begin by considering the offender as a person before she is reduced to a bared bottom. Even as you are caning that bottom you should be considering it as a part of her person, and a very important part. When the caning. "When you have lived as long as I have, you learn how to cook."I looked down at the empty plate. "Well maybe you can teach me sometime."Jon suddenly looked surprised. "You mean you're staying for a while?"I looked up at his scared face. "Why is that shocking?" I asked, feeling a little uneasy.Jon looked up at the ceiling. "Oh, well, Devnik has never brought anyone here before. But, um, in the stories that he tells me, he usually uses his mistress of the time ... then kills her.He ended. "Come on in."We seated ourselves in the living room. Then Julie called toward the kitchen."Marcie, dear, some refreshments for our guest, please."Marcie? I wondered. Who was Marcie? Then I heard the click-click-click of high heels. I looked up and there, much to my astonishment, was my ex-husband! He was wearing lipstick and eye shadow, earrings, a garter belt, fishnet stockings, stiletto heels, and a lacy white apron -- and nothing else. The pulsating erection lifting the front of his apron. And Laurent was&hellip, well quite frankly, black. And he had a French accent. He was really distant and cold almost. Jessica, I think youve had enough. He said looking not at her- but at me. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Its not for me, its for my Isabella! she giggled. Laurent poured the shot without hesitation still looking me in the eye. He slid it silently toward me and Jessica picked it up putting it to my lips. I resisted and moved her hand and the glass away shaking my head in.
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