At last, we were alone. She smiled at me. “May I call you Susan?” Maria Picton was the product of a Spanish mother and an English father, both ari...tocrats, and she had the haughty, full-lipped and black-eyed features of her Iberian blood mixed with the fine cheekbones and dark blonde hair of her paternity. “Of course.” “Then you must call me Maria. We are, after all. equals.” I arranged my napkin and looked at her. The simplicity of her grey dress belied its cost and seemed to cup her large. He moved between her legs, remarking, "You're getting quite wet down here, slut; it seems as though you enjoy pain. How about a little more?"Without warning Karl lashed a stinging blow with his short whip to Jacqui's left tit, catching her nipple and the clip on it. Jacqui thought she would pass out from the pain; it had taken her breath away so that she could not even scream. Three more blows with the whip to her breasts and three to each of her inner thighs left Jacqui sobbing in agony and. More

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