With a leer of anticipation, he stuck his long, thin finger in the jar and pulled it out, coated with a nasty looking yellowish gel. Annemie understoo... what was coming. Looking up at the cracked ceiling, she braced herself, gripping the edges of the table and digging in her feet. Placing the palm of one hand firmly on her bare, shaved mound and spreading her inner lips with his fingers, the trembling agent slid his long, greased digit slowly into her open vagina. The soldiers watched in. She felt his grasp tighten around her waist with each crackof the lash, the woman's back was furious red now, yet somehow she still managedto thank her Master each time. The lashing stopped; the man with whip was kissinghis sub petting her like a kitten, whispering into the sobbing woman's ear.The air in the small shop was thick with human breath, the musky smell of sexfloated just under the slow southern ceiling fan, losing its battle to circulatethe humid air. The Master and sub on stage were. More

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