" Yes, I will be here just after nine see you then." I replyied. I worked on for another hour and decided to call it a day, as I started to pack up my...laptop and books I noticed Becca had left her phone on the table and she had not come back for it. I put it in my laptop bag for saftey as I would probly see her tomorrow. The following day I took my usual seat in the corner and ordered my breakfast and tea from Sally. I was just tucking in to my breakfast when I saw Becca come in the cafe, she. I cupped them with my right hand and marveled at how they drew up to my touch. I noticed his cock starting to slowly rise and start moving to the center. My breath washed over it as I examined every inch. Tracing a finger the length of his shaft I felt his warmth. I took it in my hand and squeezed. It was getting so hard. My hand moved up and down his thick shaft. I had to remind him to breathe. ”Fuck, Sis, ” he moaned, ”That feels good.I smiled at him as I continued to stroke his fully erect. Now, the crop was a real old favourite implement. I scythed it through the air."Time for the crop, Henri. I'm going to beat you like an animal!" No Jim, please. Fuck me instead. Please!"Well, that was certainly an option. My cock was rigid and its head was straining against my tracksuit bottoms. But I really wanted to beat him hard with that crop first. I was crazy with lust, desire and sadism. The horse-whip was rather different to the dog-whip I mused as I cracked a first stroke down. It hadn't been easy. Ivan Vandevoort's security chief, Vil Umanski, was a world-class professional paranoid who ran a tight ship. Even details about the man himself had been scant and hard to piece together.Thule knew that Umanski had served in the NKVD during World War II. In 1954, he had quietly defected to the United States a few weeks in advance of the founding of the KGB, an event that probably would have landed him in a Siberian gulag or an unmarked grave. He'd signed on to work with.