I look down at my side and see that he only sliced through my skin and not directly into me, but is bleeding bad. I ask him to get the rubbing alcohol... He gets it out of the first-aid kit and pours it onto my wound.“MOTHER FUCKER,” I scream as Wayne runs out of the bathroom.He comes back with the bottle of whiskey, which is still half-full, He takes the lid off and hands it to me. He says it will kill the pain. I take a gulp and grimace as I can feel it go from my throat to my stomach. He gives. The belts would seldom cut, but they were heavy, causing such pain that many a young girl would swoon before the fun started. He would then have to wait until his housekeeper had applied smelling salts to revive them. Hence he selected an eighteen-inch flogger, one with twelve strands of half-inch broad leather that would slap and sting and bring the blood to the surface of their skin.Once tenderised by three or four-dozen strikes, the birch twigs could be used to assault their skin, tearing it. More

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