.. and once more Julia clasped her hands involuntarily to the searing pain.„Answer me, slave!“ barked the overseer.„Yes... y-yes...“ sobbed Ju...ia, „oh... please... not again.“But the strap went down again with all the force at her command...With a shriek, Julia catapulted backwards, clasping the welt, almost falling off the table. No longer did she care about how her naked breasts danced before the eyes of the Negro. She only cared about the pain ceasing... and about avoiding more.„Miss.... I note Oma’s approval as she hands me a fifty-year-old piece of silk. It slides down over my forearms, down the insides of my toned upper arms, and down the swell of my breasts, where it’s hem deliciously lingers, trapped by my nipples. Gravity carries its delicate lace hemline over the tips as the fabric falls to its full length with a whoosh!“Oh!” I exclaim, caught off-guard by the thrill.Oma laughs, a laugh like wind-chimes in a summer’s breeze, “yes, my dear, it is silk, really fine silk,. More

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