Thursday, December 29, 2022

Cheyenne's Barn Thrashing - cont'd

Sorry everyone. I didn't realize I never published this. 

Cheyenne bucked desperately, hands gripping at the cloth thrown over the hay bales. Her cries had turned to howls as Edward laid on stripe after stripe. She at least knew better than to try and cover her butt with her hands so she clung as tight as she could to the cloth. Tears ran down her face as she begged, begged for him to stop. First it was stop, then she promised to be a good girl, then she just had the strength to say please.

Finally it was over and she slumped over the bale, weeping, exhausted, fire raging across her ass. Both cheeks and some of her thighs were criss crossed with an angry red patchwork of dark red lines. The red halos of fire surrounding each stripe combined to make her ass a brilliant red and a few weals rose on the once smooth skin. She sobbed into the blanked as she lay exhausted, arms and legs limp. Behind her she heard Edward cleaning up the switches and moving things around. The sounds seemed so distant as she slowly gathered her strength. Finally she struggled up, heedless of her nakedness.

Sunday, December 4, 2022

Apologies for tardiness

Hello everyone. As you probably noticed I have been absent for quite a while. I have been checking in on the site but haven't had time to post anything. 

I just noticed that a lot of comments were posted and held up in moderation for quite a long time. In some cases years! What happened was I got a lot of spam comments from China. In order to stop things I set comments to moderated only. I thought I'd be notified by email anytime there was a comment but I must have disabled that also As a result a number of people posted comments and they remained in purgatory until now. I'll be more diligent on checking messages and comments going forward.

Saturday, December 3, 2022

Belinda's American Education - Stepmother - Part 4

[Continued from Part 3]

DING-DING-DING-DING!  

For a moment Belinda thought the school bell was ringing inside her head.  

Belinda groggily opened her eyes and looked out the window to her left.  Why was it still dark?

DING-DING-DING-DING!

Why were there bars on the window?

Where was she?

The clanging bell ceased.  Feminine voices - hundreds of them.  Belinda watched as the women around her roused themselves and opened the lockers at the foot of their beds.

It hadn’t been a nightmare.  Belinda Krueger, 25, heiress, doctorial student, was now a lowly prisoner at Jameson Reformatory.