She has such low self esteem, feels shame so easily.I'm already having a blast. This will be too easy, I think. "I'm sorry, Master," she murmured. "I'... s-s-sorry I displease you." Standing suddenly, I moved over to her and grabbed a handful of her hair.Her back stiffened, her breath hitch. I slapped her left tit with an open hand,and then the right. I watched them jiggle and sway. I smacked them again andagain, until her tits were pink and covered with finger marks. "Did I do something wrong?". I like tea and I'm very particular how it's made. Whether it's leaves or bags, it must be made in a pot which has been heated and with water that's 'over the boil' as my mother used to say. The pot must be allowed to stand for five minutes before pouring. The milk should be added to the cup first and the sugar last. Mrs Pinkston, an otherwise admirable woman who hosts the book club, doesn't understand this and I confess the otherwise pleasurable evenings we spend discussing our latest literary. More

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