Michael turned it off with a look of disgust on his face. Michael hated dealing with the incessant storms, but knew it was the price he had to pay to...live here. The storm meant that he would have to close up the house and shutters, a task that he despised. It meant getting out in the wind driven sands, setting up the ladder and working those rusted hinges. He had been meaning to oil them, but like most things lately, he kept telling himself it could wait. As Michael continued to work his. Although only a medium blow it is a feeling of pain she has never experienced. Repeatedly the cane lashes into her backside, red and purple starting to rise with welts. She wants to scream but cannot, as she needs to gasp for air. The cane blows are like a drum rhythm. Laughter fills her ear as the drum beat stops, only to feel the saliva fill the other ear. As the tears pour down her face and the pain in her thighs starts to throb, a scissor like feeling bites into her nipples. Alligator. More

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