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Reflections of A Sadist Her eyes were wide with fear as a slight tremor shook her body . In my hand was a eighteen inches of pure hell on earth. And she was scared , one tiny drop of sweat was rolling down her cheek . My nostrils were flaring from the caning i just gave her and my left eye was twitching . I had to gather myself , hated restraint smothering my soul . Her voice quivered when she asked me what i had there. Hissing a reply through clenched teeth I said "reinforced high pressure hose , see the pattern of the reinforcement on the hose?" As I put it mere millimeters from her face . She bucked like the wild deranged slut that I turned her into trying to escape . I grabbed a fistfull of her red fiery hair and yanked hard. She whimpered softly in acquiesence . My muscular arm reaching back to strike and strike I did! Hearing the rubbery sound of each impact with her ass I became fully erect , aroused . seeing her writh in pain I hollowly asked if she was enjoying this session . What response her masochistic brain produced was a moot point. I just needed to stop and get my breathing under control before i went too far off the edge of ... and I sneer when i say this... "acceptable behavior". My pain was searing as my soul was drowning in an abyss of modern day rules and ettiquite. The real world was to claim her in a vanilla haze shortly and i could go no further . That i cannot adequately describe the turmoil I was in when I cut her free and rubbed her red welted ass should be sufficient , yet it is not . I wondered looking at my handiwork as to which of us is the true sadist and which the masochist? |
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