I was dizzy and confused. I didn't have permission to taste Him.He grabbed my strap connected to my collar and led me into another room. He took the s...rap and connected it to a hook high above my head. There was a bench and I was told to bend over it. My hands and feet were anchored to hooks and I knew what was coming.He took a leather strap off the wall and before my first beating began he gave me these words:"This is going to be very severe. You are being punished for your hesitation but. “I haven’t heard complaints from the ladies yet,” I told her.“In any case, we’re getting distracted. Eve’s kind of a basket case, right now.”“Embarrassment put her into a tailspin?” I asked, knowingly.“A little bit,” she admitted.“Tell her not to worry about it,” I advised her. “That kind of thing really does happen. She works in security. She knows to protect herself.”“I’ll tell her you said that,” she said. “She’ll be grateful that you understand.”“Well, I don’t want her to freak out more. I had no slave girl to practice them on so I hadto set with verbally living partly his life.He started to joke about: ?You know you have a slave-girl-school at home!?I told him freely and honestly about my life and he gave me the possibilityto follow his in sharp verbally details. Very often in the truck he told meabout his new conquests and how they fell out. He never held back on detailsand we had pleasure of it both him and I.The concept ?Slave-girl-school? become a joke between us.We both. Maybe he was some fringe Everglades nutter whose identity had been borrowed. There was no shortage of those types, but that was hardly a death penalty offense ... even in Florida. Heck, if I lived out here on the ass edge of nowhere, with the swamp just right in back of my house, I'd sit with a shotgun on my own porch too, for the alligators alone, not to mention the alleged 'bigfoot' and-or swamp monster sightings. Swamps are seriously bad craziness and you have to respect them or they will.