He took his time getting to spanking number eleven, and even longer to number twelve. I couldn’t tell the difference being tortured and pleasured. S...ACK! “Thirteen!” I called out, muffled under a sob that came with the tears. George pulled the handle out of me, quickly unfastened my hands from the railing, and grabbed onto me in a protective hug. The tighter and closer he held me, the harder my sobs turned into blubbering. “There, there, my pet,” he said, holding me and rubbing the flaming hot. I wish I could make this news more pleasant but I can’t. Peter’s been missing for a week since he drove off to deliver a truck last Friday. Joe discovered that the truck arrived at Bathurst driven by some unknown trucker, and since then we haven’t heard from Peter since he left here on that delivery run. ‘Two police officers have just arrived to tell us that he’s on life support and is dying. They’re demanding I go to the hospital immediately if I want to see Peter alive. I thought you should. More

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