The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 7 (Part 2)

I discovered that afternoon he was an accomplished whip. The tufted end snapped my bare buttocks with stinging kisses. Cracking with sharp explosive power, the leather tip danced a painful random path all around while I apologized for my stupidity. I screeched, as for the finale, he laid a searing line of fire down the center of my crack, the final whipping placed as a direct bulls-eye upon my pooched bunghole. I momentarily lost my breath at the cut—it quickly turned to a numb ache. As best I good I rotated my hips and waggled my tail for more.

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