The taste was strong, but not unpleasant. Christine licked and licked, forgetting about everything, forgetting even about the pain in her handcuffed w...ists beneath her. Miss Westlake began to thrust her hips against the girl’s face, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Christine’s world shrank into countless slick folds of soft flesh under her tongue, into a pungent smell of aroused female, into the moans and heavy breathing above. Suddenly the rhythm broke, and Miss Westlake’s hips. It was rewarded with the loudest gasp and more sobbing and certainly more tears flowing down Miss Johnson‘s face as she shook her head and wiggled her bottom from side to side, and again bent her legs. They were all signs that Miss Johnson was struggling to cope with the pain, although, equally, it showed that she was also too scared to get up and face any additional punishments. Gemma knew that was a quandary that Miss Johnson would be having. Equally, it was a sign that her Miss Johnson was. More

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