‘I just don’t enjoy all that whipping, beating and buggery,’ she admitted to Sharon. ‘If only there were other ways of demonstrating your fait... which didn’t hurt quite so much. And I just don’t want to lose my finger. It’s not done me any harm. In fact, I’m quite fond of it.’ She held up her hand and flexed her third finger with a sigh. When the others returned, they seemed flushed with exertion and sweat, often with traces of blood rising from welts on their back and buttocks, and sometimes. I also said, it was a good excuse to see her again, too. She laughed and said she was too old for me anyways. But I had planted the seed.Later that day, she greeted me at the door of the empty apartment. She talked about the place some more, but it was obvious I was more interested in her. I told her how pretty she looked and she smiled. She wore a tight, white shirt under her pink jacket, but it could not hide her small but round, firm, fake breasts. Her tight, silver colored mini skirt held. More

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