When I finally tossed the wooden slat away, I brought myself back to earth. I collected the ferocity, tucked it away and adopted the same bitter coldness that I’d found so stimulating before.
“You are an incorrigible slut, Alia Gale,” I announced with some satisfaction, while circling her surrendered body. I could say this of her and still love her.
She didn’t speak; her head was bowed. I detected a sob as she struggled to contain the emotion billowing all around her.
When I moved close, I reached between her sweaty thighs and felt for the evidence. She jerked involuntarily and snuffed.
“You always get aroused when you’re beaten?”
“Yes, sir,” she said in a quiet admission.
“It turns you on so much, you feel guilty about that, don’t you?” I continued to play with the hot folds of
