She had screamed herself hoarse begging for her release. Then the true torture began.At random intervals, the siren began blaring and the lights began... strobing. Ice cold water would pour from a shower head above the room. She would be lifted by the padded handcuffs off the floor, and electric shocks would be applied through the cuffs. Often the tortures would be combined or alternated. An even more diabolical method of breaking her will was in the shortening of the day-night cycle by decreasing. I stood facing them, my cock now rigid, “I am going to be punished with twelve strokes of the cane because I wanked...”The plastic ruler struck my cock, again making it bounce, “Do not use that word in this house,” Aunty said grimly. “...because I masturbated on your clean sheets.” She moved the stool out of the way and pulled the narrow end of the coffee table into place. I knew the routine and stood astride the table, forcing my legs well apart, then bent over to grip the sides.I snarled at. It was a free period for her and nobody other than me and her where in the room. She told to me that i was not concentrating on the period and always looking at somewhere else. I thought that she did not mean my looking’s on her and said that i was listening to her in the class (as i would have reasonable marks i could tell that lie). Then i asked her where all i has to improve in my answers of letters and notemakings.all this time i could see her washer because she had freed her saree. I got home and smoked my joint and couldn't get him out of my mind. I got stoned and went to bed. I began to pleasure myself and he popped up in my head! So I just went with it and I got so turned on thinking about him. I orgasmed and fell asleep. I didn't think about it or him for a couple of days and then one night my phone rang and it was him. I got chills up and down my spine when I started to answer it. I remembered how I felt when I got home that night and I almost didn't answer.