I turned around, expecting to find my father. Instead, I discovered a dark shape. A bear.I’ve seen three wild bears in my life. The first time was w...en I was young. My sister and I came across a bear eating the wild apples that grew in the tree near our house. We were far enough to sneak away unnoticed. The second time was when I was a teenager. I was biking along the path that meandered through the forest when I came across a large bear. I skidded to a stop and the sound of the gravel flying. "You can touch them if you would like," I said in a low shaky voice.He reached out and stroked the left one and I couldn't believe the feeling I had when his fingers tugged at the nipple."Kiss them" I whispered hoarsely and he leaned forward and kissed the right one while his fingers still rubbed the nipple of the left. "Lick the nipple honey" I whispered and felt my pussy flood when his tongue laved over the stiff little pleasure point. After several seconds of licking the nipple he started. It was one thing to witness Her Ladyship’s punishment but quite another to be ordered to participate in it. For all her general consideration that Lady Caylethorpe had more than deserved her caning, Sandra was essentially a kind girl and not the sort who would willingly inflict pain on anybody and she had no stomach for this job.Nevertheless she steeled herself to the task and took up position as ordered and raised the cane. Lady Caylethorpe had raised a fresh paroxysm of wails and laments at. Some of these images are artificial, told to me by others or from pictures in the family album. I know that my Papa played Barrel of Monkeys with my sister and me on one of our birthdays, but I don’t really remember the event. I always had the impression that pictures were meant to capture a moment and remind you, to trigger the memory. That picture is my only memory of that moment in time, that experience. It is black licorice that triggers my most vivid memory. Not just any black licorice,.