“Mike, can you be a dear and stop by with some carbon paper and correction fluid from the office? I just did my hair and don’t want to go out with...it looking like this in public.”I promised to be there in about an hour and hoped she was not in a mood for something more than a re-supply of office supplies. I knew that once she sat on my lap or started fooling around with my hair or ears, I would soon be “burying the salami” as deeply as possible in one of her available openings. I was on a tight. Okiwe now made her bend over a low table, and they tied her wrists to the far edge. Ms. Okiwe then raised a long, rather nasty looking stick. She proceeded to give Mum a precisely applied, cold and judicial caning on her bare bottom. Six vicious strokes were cruelly given to Mum. God, you could hear the swooshing of the long rod as it cut through the air and sliced in to her bum. I was shuddering at Mum's cries of pain and protest! Between strokes, Kabul and Okiwe were talking about the taste. More

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