All her clothes. We watched that voluptuous greenish-white silhouette on video monitors. Military type infrared nightscope pickups give human flesh a ...istinctly ghost-like cast.Nothing. After three hours, we were getting bored watching the proceedings, or rather, the lack of them. Lora was asleep and snoring softly on the cot in her cell.What was that? There was a blur of motion. Lora was struggling with someone or something. Alarm bells were shrilling and the audio pickups amplified her angry. “Whose pussy is this?” I asked. The reason I asked this question is twofold. I couldn’t think of any deep and thought provoking questions now that Betty was there. It felt really taboo to be hitting her daughter in front of her. I know it shouldn’t have but I was having trouble getting over the idea that her mother would be watching and even supportive of her spanking.I also remembered the two black guys asking Betty if her booty belonged to them and she answered yes.“My pussy is YOURSSSSSSS,. More

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