She went on to describe what she was wanting with thepictures, capturing her splashing on the beach of this deserted island.Britney had her agent and ...a small entourage with her and there were a seriesof small bungalows that we would be staying in tonight. Because she wantedto get some evening shots with her and the sunset, it was decided to stay onthe island one night instead of trying to pack it all up in the dark. Mybungalow was the very last one, about 50 yards from hers.It was a beautifully. I printed mailing labels. Lize and I affixed them to cartons and stacked them by the front door. “United Parcel will be by on Monday for these,” I said. “Fifteen orders today in addition to the twenty on Friday. Care to go to The Reef for dinner?”“I’ll have their antipasto,” she remarked. “Something light before our Saturday night enemas. I don’t want to make the mistake I made last Saturday.”“Do you mean when you gorged yourself on lasagna? It’s not a good idea to have a big enema on a full. .....your sure your alright with it?" Sighing with frustration I said "yes!...stop keep asking me...that's about a million times now" Sarah's hurt look prompting me to apologise "sorry" I smiled warmly "it's just....I really want to do this but I'm nervous aswel, I suppose I'm worried if you keep asking I might back out". Sarah, understanding and patient as always admitted she was also nervous, probably Bertie too. After all, it was a first for them all.The next night as I got ready for Sarah. I kept staring at his organ, expecting the sight to reduce the pain of my punishment. But I was wrong. His cane strokes were vicious. He was beating me with great excitement. The cane started to lash…1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ……every lash was followed by my muffled cry. the cry or my expression of pain did not invite any mercy. He just went on with his strength and expertise in handling the cane. I was sure that he was a real expert in handling the cane. I was also sure that what ever he said during.
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