Yet, I felt compelled to ask the same question, “Where’re your clothes?”The brunette looked me over, stumbling in the process. Her ample cleavag... jiggled within her bra and I had to swallow to wet my dry throat. She looked up and smiled at me, her eyes sparkling. She ran her small hands over her body and said, “Don’t you like what you see?”I wasn’t frozen this time. My emotions weren’t a storm of conflicts. I was simply relieved to know that Francine was okay.Her eyes dropped, she licked her. He dragged me over to the desk and and threw me face down across it. He ripped the skirt off me and started to whip my arse. Pete joined him. I screamed as they whipped me mercilessly across my back, arse and upper legs.They could hear me outside because the waitress came in to see what was happening. I thought she was going to help me but instead she took the belt off my husband and whipped me as well. "You stupid cunt. Think you can come in to our place dressed like a whore and then scream. More

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