"Those need to be freed, so I can look at them," she whispered. She had already noted how many buttons he had to be freed, almost subconciously, but...then the mind has a way of knowing, almost without thought, what must be done. As she unbuttoned his shirt, she counted backwards from eight, in a seductive countdown to pleasure... "Eight." She smiled at him. "Seven... Six...." She stopped, running her fingers through his now-exposed chest hair. "I'm going to have fun with you," she. Mother takes out her bullwhip. The 'big guns' are deployed. Shetwirls it over our heads and lets it snap mere inches from our bodies.CRACK! (I mean it's a sonic boom, that crack, just in case you didn'tknow.) Mother gives us several more cracks of the whip. I try not toflinch. I know she is an expert. We both know if she did strike mewith that whip, it would be a trip to the hospital, for sure. I stillshake. Mother puts a cigarette in my mouth, lights it and then knocksit out with the. More

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