Once he even made me hand write it twenty-five times while he fucked me slowly with the thick mahogany nameplate thats probably still on his desk toda.... It took me three tries until the legibility met his requirements. The truth at that time was that I didnt like a lot of pain, right at the beginning or at all. But I suppose one could call it an acquired taste, like beer or 19th century American novels. And it didnt take me very long to grow to appreciate it, like it, even need it. But thats. As I looked him up and down I sniggered, “Man, you got fucking ugly woman legs, maybe in Russia are the girls so hairy.”He lifted the skirt and looked down and started chuckling with me then asked “Got some panty hose? Maybe that will make them look better.”I rummaged in my dresser for a pair of dark panty hose and handed them to him. He looked at the wad of nylon, “Those are supposed to fit you? They’re all fucking shriveled up!”“They’ll stretch, if they were bigger they’d be like baggy and. More

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