I eagerly drank the warm salty fluid but the copious amounts overflowed my mouth as it ran down my chin and pooled on the floor. Harold never changed ...is pace as he continued to stroke his cock and gently stroke my face until he was finished. Mike figured that would hold them for a bit so he had both of them stand behind me so they could watch as he turned my velvety smooth white bottom into an array of thick red welts. Mike selected a nice whippy cane and while tapping it on my bum began. It was always something I really wanted or needed. It was also something my poor parents could not afford.This stymied my mom and dad. They had never really believed in Santa, but they came to accept that someone was being Santa to me each Christmas morning.As I got older, all my friends stopped believing in Santa, but not me. I kept my belief secret from my friends. They would just tease me and spoil my faith.When I was eleven, I went through puberty. My mother sat me down and spelled out the. More

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