Ovidwas starting to remind me of that show. Why? Because it was too normal.It was like those Heaven on Earth fantasies where someone from the bigcity ...inds relief from his troubles in the small, nearly perfect town ofhis youth. Well, sorry, Ovid, I thought. I was born and raised in thecity, and while I might not have enjoyed growing up under my father'sthumb, I certainly didn't want to settle down in Ovid. In fact, I wasn'ttoo sure I even wanted my father investing in Ovid. Something. Since I wore a short bouncy cotton skirt and blouse, the strokes would not be as cruel as they would have, had I been nude, still they stung quite a bit. Sometimes I could not help but to try to protect my sore ass or boobies with my hands. Then, not only would I get a hard whack on my hands, but I would have to uncover the intended recipient of the stroke, breasts or ass, and receive two cuts of the crop or ruler on its proper target.My pussy was dripping so much I had to put a towel under my. More

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