Then he slid it between her legs and teased his way up her inner thighs. Emmy moaned with pleasure.“I’m going to give you what you need, Emmy. Som...times my cane will land in stingy bites on the surface and sometimes it will be more of a thud and will provide a deeper ache,” he explained. “You will call me Sir or My Sir while I am using you as my personal whipping post. You will count each stroke and beg me for more. I’m going to call you vile names that will make your pussy drip. And when I am. Instead of milkers, the barn was filled with city folk’s horses — weekend cowboys, buying a slice of the country life. Sam turned into the driveway. His mother sat on the porch swing, reading the newspaper, like every summer night. Parking the pickup in back, Sam entered the kitchen. Chris was at the table, dunking fresh baked oatmeal-raisin cookies in a tall glass of milk. The smell transported Sam back to second grade. ‘How’s it goin’, Son?’ He kissed the top of his head, then walked to the. More

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