We needed a little illumination for what was to come next! “Drop them!” he ordered. I complied, pulling my leather chaps right down. I bent down o... all fours, jockstrap still in place and my head only just above the sand-covered floor. “Fifty!” he announced. I should explain that our leather strap is heavy duty. It must have cost Evan a fortune to buy. It was a hard thrashing. The strap lashed and lashed again. I gasped, groaned, writhed and cried out. Fifty strokes was a hell of a lot. All the. I could go on. She wore a red silk (or something like it, but with her money, I'd bet on silk) blouse that had a Chinesey kind of collar (you know, like Mao always wore), a loose schoolgirl-style skirt that was about knee length, and simple heels – they looked to be about two inches. She set it off with a single strand of pearls and matching earrings. She wore no makeup (or so it seemed to me anyway) and pale caramel rose lipstick (What do I know about colors? I'm a guy. I believe in the eight. More

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