My first time had been very hard. I hadn't wanted to read the words and I'd refused. So they'd beaten me from the waist down with truncheons of rubber...hose filled with sand. I hadn't been able to walk or even stand, but I'd been able to read what they told me to as I sat on a chair. My face had not been marked then, not once, nor had my arms or shoulders. Any part of me that would be seen by my friends and family was clean and soft and unbruised. It shamed me.The second time I'd been more ready. With his hands also on my head, being in his shadow, and the slight stage fright, I could only conclude it came from emotional and physical tolls, although, I still didn't have a single regret, and just wanted to please him beyond belief. After five minutes, he upgraded his vibrations quite a bit and even shed his own tears. I surely wanted his seed, regardless of where it was going to go, I wanted it, but yet I didn't push him too far, too fast, and continued to suck it ever so slowly. I. More

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