My hands dove into my whipped cunt; heedless of audience, I frantically rubbed the stinging lines. My cruel punishers grabbed my arms, yanking me upright, spun me dizzily, bent me over. Mrs. Cleanknockers stuffed me betwixt her thighs; fingers gouged my breasts, pinched nipples trapped. My defenseless bottom now targeted for Lord Caneshard’s wrath. The harsh leather strap reignited the scalding burn. I yowled, muffled in her skirts, and danced on tiptop like a puppet. Quick, steady, decisive, he punished my insolence and drove the cocky attitude before him to market. Silence then, only my sobbing heard. What heavenly heat.
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