#172333 - Her backside, already a deep pulsating scarlet flecked with crimson began to show the raised welts of the cane strokes and before I paused for breath had reduced her backside to the appearance of a railway marshalling yard. I was surprised to see that far from flinching, she pushed her bottom up to meet my hand and slightly stretched her thighs open. There, at the end of the dark and gloomy passage leading up to the door, timorously awaiting my arrival stood a girl.
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