Susan crying in her misery, and unable to see through her tears, felt Peter as he gripped the nipple of her left breast, and lifted. Pulling it upward...a bit, creating new pain in the sore pink protrusion, then another blow, this time to the soft underside of her breast.Then four more quick strokes of the whip in rapid succession. It was almost as if he wasrunning a marathon, trying to finish quickly. A moment later she felt the release of the nipple of her right breast, again the pain as he. Good, I didn?t want her to leave. But what was she getting at? How low I would go? ?I would, I would do anything you wanted.? I blurted outlike a moron. ?Oh that?s nice to hear, but not creative enough! If it were left up to me, well, youwouldn?t want to know what I would ask of you, so you better pick somethingthat entertains me or I am going to make sure you regret asking me todecide!? her breathing was makingthe shot glass move up and down, stretching her already strained shirt. I. More

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