He'd punish her rather than titillating her - he'd hurt rather than reward. She couldn't say anything.She couldn't hear him, though, and as her flush ...aded, as her skin cooled and she began to come back to herself, she wondered what his next delicious torture would be.She waited. Heart rate slowing. Breath becoming even. And still, nothing.Without any warning but the brush of air preceding the blow, it came. From nowhere - the sharp sting of his favorite flogger. Hard rubber falls with sharp. He was a beautiful, small-stature boy, with curly black hair, an open, winning smile, and a tight hole. There was a question, of course, on how tight the hole still would be when we reached Casablanca.I came up between his spread thighs, placed my feet in the indentations that had been carved in the deck there to help the dominating man remain steady if the headwind was high, grasped his waist between my hands, worked my cock inside his channel, and began to slow pump him. He gasped when I. More

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