She had come to me seeking a Daddy and had found instead a predator. But she knew what was expected of her as a female, bending her left knee, arching...the foot and pointing the toes, posing to please. "Good girl," I remarked.And now a loud cry escaped her, coming from deep in her lungs. Strands of her long, red hair were now sticking to her large, firm, swollen breasts. For the first time, I noticed she was wearing a silver chain with a crucifix on the end. The symbol of Christianity---sweet. Unlike Paula, whose backside was already craving for more lovely swishy strokes, she was quite happy to postpone her next whipping indefinitely - for ever, even! There was more to life than a succession of severe whippings - or ought to be!"What would the Slave do - if she weren't a Slave?" Paula sounded uncertain. Authority was all very well, but not when important and rather tricky decisions were to be made!"The Slave has no idea. The Slave does not have ideas above her station. The Slave is. More

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