She had dressed exactly as he had told her. Black stockings, the basque he had supplied, black thong panties and black stiletto heeled shoes. The four...inch heels made her calves tight and shapely. She took one last look. It was ten fifteen and he would arrive a ten thirty. She had butterflies in her stomach from her nervousness. Why was she actually doing this? Here she was, a respectable married woman with a wonderful husband, waiting for a man she'd only met online. She was wearing exactly. Without hesitation, Larra drew her hand back and landed a steady stream of sharp, stinging blows. The rhythm remained steady through five strokes, then ten. Only when she reached fifteen did Amanda hear even the smallest grunt of pain."Okay, that's enough," the servant said after the twentieth blow.Larra's hand fell away. Her rear glowed pinkish-red.The other servants surged forward. One grabbed a slave and ordered her to her knees. She had barely complied when his thick manhood was shoved hard. More

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