I'm not doing anything! I can't stop it... I think I need to go to the hospital! It just wont stop!"She bit her lip and looked at your privates, still...oozing cum all over your hips and into the pool of almost five gallons of cum sticking to the bed, "Okay, okay! Just... just put on two pairs of - of jeans. Get in the car right away!"A minute later you're doing your best to move in two pairs of jeans, even as your quickly cleaned waist began to wet with cum, your mother was driving furiously. All I would have to do would be to push a live shell into the place of the ejected shell. This was sort of like reloading a revolver with the action still closed. I practiced for three days on a shooting range until I was confident that I could do everything required. I practiced both with a bandolier and a pouch of loose shells at my belt. I finally settled on the pouch of loose shells on my left hip where I could easily reach it with my left hand.I also studied some photos and drawings of. This woman was much less thorough than the Warden would have liked to see if she had been there. When she had finished, Megan bled from twelve cuts to her back, half a dozen to her stomach and six to her thighs and buttocks. The guard had rounded off her work by bringing the whip down across both breasts. Long before this had reached the half way stage Megan had ceased resisting the impulse to scream and her tortured shrieks rang around the compound. How Clarissa had endued her much more severe. As much as I want to call in sick and just lay in bed all day continuing our forbidden fun, I am desperately needed at work for part 2 of an incredibly stressful day with the directors. I convey my reluctance to leave and head out the door, giving her a long wet tongue kiss before I split. As I descend the stairs I beat myself up mentally and the panic & gravity of the situation begin to set in. What exactly have I done to our relationship? How does this end? How i*****l is this? Can I even go.