I could barely stop the moan. I couldn’t hide the shiver that raced over my skin. “You’re twenty-three. I’m fifty-six, that’s twice as old. ...ou are beautiful. I once was. You are still rather innocent. You can’t even start to imagine the dirty things that I want to do when I look at you. Do you really want this?” “Oh god, yes! Make me yours!” The words, harbored in my mind since I had noticed her at the university, broke free from their chains. I had watched her, admired her, even signed up for. I'll be good! I'm sorry! It hurts! Oh, God, how it hurts! I'll do anything -- anything to make it stop, please!" Candy tries to say, but fails, only inhaling the bedcovers. Candy breathes in barely enough air to hold onto consciousness -- not enough to scream. Then, as suddenly as the caning started, it stops. Candy's back and buttocks are tattooed with lines of pain; never has she felt anything like it; never has she been so wet and excited. Candy welcomes Sir back inside her as once again he. More

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