That's going to keep happening... Never been broken, have you, Corey?" No... I suppose not." The thought thrilled her outrageously. "Are you going to make me crawl, darling?" Put those tied hands at the back of your neck, Miss Corey Gibson. And hold still. That 'darling' is going to cost you."Unrepentent but quivering. Corey obeyed. Her breasts jutted in response. She guessed instantly what he was about to do to her. "I'm not sorry I said that, Master." Deliberately, she arched her back and added an inch or two to the prominence of her nipples.A lash across the curve of each breast. One only! Corey had retired behind closed eyes and clenched teeth, and accepted this new and dreadful pain with a fortitude she knew would not have lasted if the blows continued to fall. She swayed, her nostrils flared, her sex flamed. She had given and received in a love play designed for a slave. Opening her eyes, she looked down at the scarlet bars enhancing the loveliness of her most feminine. At least I think she did. We lived in a nice house and always had plenty of stuff. She was an attractive woman, at least in most of my memories; I didn't keep a picture of her. Most of the men she dragged home were neither nice nor attractive. She liked slobs. I never knew who would show up for breakfast, or how many. Most of them scared the shit out of me, or shamed me. I do remember one man who hung around for almost a whole school year. I was in seventh grade and he wasn't a bad male role model. They'd met at a swinger's party and I guess he was okay with a lot of her slut shit, but even he eventually got fed up and split. I was a senior in high school when my mother contracted AIDS.A few weeks after it was confirmed, she committed suicide, or she was murdered. I don't think the cops were ever certain, but I didn't care. I hated her, and I didn't go to her funeral. I'd been living on my own for two years before she died. At fifteen, I was already a mostly full-grown man. At least.
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