Miss Priscilla thrived on the pain of boys. So he might as well scream his head off. And he did. Cut after cut followed, each delivered with precision... The boys buttocks were soon a mass of livid stripes.And then it happened - a particularly vicious stroke landed square across his balls. He squealed like a pig, and Miss Priscilla gave a little grin. "I'm sorry" she said, but I think that from an expert like Miss Priscilla the cut was well intended.From this point on the boy was struggling,. “you know I had you early, I was still a girl and your grandad threw me out, I married your dad and I was lucky, he was a good man. We were happy, well of course you know that bit.” She took a drink “What you don’t know is that he was a poorly paid ploughman, and we were really hard up, we needed the money… we were desperate…so I went on the game.” She paused for the words to permeate, he had gone pale his jaw slack in amazement, then she went on, “when we had made enough, and it took a while. More

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