"Shortly after the gardener confessed that he knew about the plot to have me beaten, the cook returned carrying a thick rattan cane with him. When my ...aster saw him he asked, "How many strokes do you suppose I should give the girl?" I am only a humble servant, Sir, but, I think you should punish her severely for defying your previous orders. I believe anything less than 12 strokes would be far too lenient, Master." Very well then. While you were retrieving the cane, the gardener told me that. Most especially the vision of Helen, walking, swaying up the walk from where she’d parked that marvelous Beemer of hers. That memory still popped into his head at the damndest times. When it did it stayed in the back of his mind all day. But even in those few years since that morning in May, so many changes had been made in this quiet Eastern Washington town. For one thing, the motel was now a La Quinta. As comfortable as he remembered the room he was in now was head and shoulders above the. "Now try this one for size."She quickly spun around on her fathers body, and began to kiss and play with his slowly erecting cock. Her own crotch was not many inches from her fathers face, and Adrian began to play with her once more. When she felt his tongue on her she shuddered lightly, and then spoke. "No. No tongues. Fingers only. For now."Adrian was glad to comply. He loved receiving blow jobs as much as he loved giving them, but he was always wary about sixty-nines. Many years ago, in. Her cock rose and her bottom tingled as she felt eyes all over her; the feeling of being owned and controlled by someone else appealed to her erotic submissive nature and this exposure was certainly a thrill she had not expected.Jim led her to a group of males who all introduced themselves as being ‘bi’; they all smiled wickedly at her and eyed her up and down. One of them looked at her partner.“You were not k**ding Jim, she is lovely. Is she up for a bit of fun with us all?” Sissygirl blushed.