She had already been subjected to caning, whipping, flogging, slippering, belting and some stinging nettles that left her unable to sit down for sever...l days.After extensive exposure to all manner of disciplinary devices, she had decided that the good old fashioned palm of the hand on her backside or a well-designed paddle was her preference of bottom pounding equipment. She seldom asked her bed partners to scratch her special itch of needing these degrading sessions of harsh treatment. Most of. Leaning forward, he kissed her hard on the lips. Blood rushed like a drugged cocktail through his veins, engorging his dick. The roar of want so intoxicating. He kissed her, held her in his grasp until she struggled, and only then did he release her enough to allow those few desperate breaths in. Placing his mouth to her ear, he whispered to the beast that lived in her body. “You want me to fuck you, huh? Straighten your head out by shoving my dick down your throat? You’re going to get exactly. And suddenly I had to speak English all day, which is okay but can get a bit tiresome. It’s not as if you can say: ‘Okay guys, my jaw hurts. How about you all humour ME for a change?’ I didn’t care for the food much, either. And the weather was hardly an improvement. But the worst thing, the absolute worst thing was leaving behind my big brother, Martin. I didn’t sleep much, the first few months. Still, we found a way to make it work. And we found reasons to visit each other, even if they were. Of course my moving out wasn’t due to the argument. I was moving out because I wasn’t going to live with a cheating slut. Our marriage was over the second she let another man into her panties. I checked into a motel near my office. It was kind of seedy but it would do until I found something more permanent. I put the two suitcases I had packed into my room and walked to a nearby neighborhood bar intent on getting drunk and drowning my sorrows. By walking I wouldn’t risk a DWI. The place I chose.