“Let’s do that again from the other side.”“Sir do you have to. It is very painful.”“You should have thought of that when you were letting ...he boys have their wicked way with you.”“It was only fun.”“Well, it is not so funny now. Next three coming up.”I repeated the strokes from the other side. With much bottom wriggling, moaning, and drawing of breath from Sophie. Afterwards, the tops of her thighs had faint red lines where the whip had left its calling card. Her bottom looked like a picture. I. She'd been widowed many years ago and my late mother had mentioned disapprovingly that she had had a "fancy man". Maggie had clearly been a very glamorous woman in her youth as she often talked about places she'd been to and the people she'd met. She reminded me of Bridget Bardot, old but still had an underlying attractiveness. "My legs are killing me" she said as we sat with our cups of tea on the sofa. "What's up with them" I said taking her empty cup out to the kitchen. "Varicose veins, kill. More

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