She smiled as she saw one of Gina’s riding crops hanging from a hook by the back door into the boot room. She fetched it and gave the air a couple of whooshing practise strokes. It felt good in her hands, thin and light, with a skinny tongue of leather at the end. Her smile broadened as she collected Rose and led her over to the kitchen cupboards, taking her long hair up and feeding it around the bar handle of the oven housed within a tall upright unit, and tying the tresses into a knot so that the girl was secured with her back to the appliance. Still in silence sent out little flicks of the whip-tongue against Rose’s perky t**s, seeing them stiffen and grow with the stinging touch. Rose gasped and squirmed; she loved her n****e torture too. Each contact came with a little ticking sound
