Chapter Sixteen
Molt gag remaining, 128 learns to swallow with circumspection, her own juices bringing the sensation of drowning. It aggravates, adding to the displeasure of the deluge of burning urine. But the voice comes not, and 128 for now is relieved of the gut wrenching shocks of discipline.
In the dark nothingness, the tender care of Nurse Kelly comes to mind. She needs to be bathed. She pines for the purifying whisks of her straight razor. And to be m*********d! The hands and fingers found to be sublime!
The aftercare was worth all the pain and suffering. She would gladly ride the horse again, submit to the many searing hot needles, endure another caning just to be under the knowing woman’s soothing ministrations.
‘I need to go back,’ come silent words of remorse. ‘128 needs to
