He kept giving 10 strokes and fucking me until I had 100 strokes, my ass was on fire now and my hole stretched.I didn’t feel the pain anymore, my as... was numb, I only felt heat, my cheeks were burning. He started fucking me, thrusting harder and deeper each time, holding my hips and pulling hard, I could feel him stopping deep inside me, I guess he was feeling the heat from the caning on his body. Then the gag came off, but hang on, he’s inside me, there was someone else in the room and had. I did a double take. It was a real goblet. Old, and was obviously made by hand as it had the look of beaten metal. ‘Drink this,’ she said, and obediently, I did. It was sour and I nearly vomited it all back up. ‘Good,’ she soothed as she took the goblet from me and sat in the chair next to me again. ‘Would you like to know my other names, Regan?’ I shook my head starring at her. ‘What did you mean, Regan of the future?’ She began to rock again and picked her sewing back up. ‘They call me a. ....just not like that. He's.... well dedicated to hiswork. He works hard at what he does. But he is not what you might call acut and thrust kind of man." Ah, I see," she acknowledged. "So is Matthew an only child, no brothersor sisters?" No, there's no brothers or sisters. I think myself lucky to haveMatthew," she replied now looking down into her coffee."Oh, were there problems.....complications?" she asked."Erm.....well." Cherry paused."Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. That's perhaps....". They were the lucky ones, the beautiful people. They stood at the big panorama window, looking at the city lights, holding hands and sharing what seemed like a romantic moment. I almost felt like an intruder in my own condo.“Would anybody like something to drink?” It was time to break them out of their reverie.“Ah, what? Yes, Tom, that would be lovely. You have some white wine maybe?”“Sure.”“Beer.”While I fetched their drinks, I tried to calm my nerves a little. I still had the impression that.