We went to a family style steakhouse in Williamston.After a heavy meal, I settled down with a cup of tea and the computer. I didn't slip into the chat...room until Bart was up in what had become his part of the studio. It was his part, even though I managed to navigate the open stairs at least three times a week for showers. That and the boxes at the end of the open stairs held my clothes. At least I no longer had to ask him to bring fresh panties down to me.My leg had healed enough so that I. And again.Her voice filled the room. The acoustics are fantastic, man. The belt would connect, she'd hiss, or growl, or gasp sharply, but I heard it all, especially when the pleading started—the begging. Between each strike, her face pressed into the cushions, fingers interlocked in benediction, praying, "God, take me. Fucking take me. FUCK ME! GOD!"It would have been heartless to test her faith now. I did insist on a moment of silence by looping the belt across her lips. She bit onto the. More

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