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emergency with him, but thanks to Ilona this is probably not the case. Although, fellatio-emergency was very noticeable... He withdraws from my mouth as if he were fleeing, but no, he is not fleeing. Hot splashes onto my face, I close everything that can be closed. Everywhere I get hit, on the eyelids, the nose, the lips, the cheeks, and viscously the juice creeps over my skin, runs down my chin and drips onto my negligee.

      When the spring has dried up, I have to clean the still big cock in my mouth and then put it back in my pants, which is not easy because it doesn't want to shrink.

      "Full load," Richard says. "That's the punishment for showing up without suspenders. He's not allowed to wash for a while."

      Mercilessly Ilona shakes her head. "You only did that because you're horny. That's no punishment."

      She orders me to lie face down on my seat cushion, handcuffing my hands to the legs of the table. My arms are wide outstretched, helplessly I offer my bottom and on the white carpet, which I see close below me, white sperm drips down from my face, apparently unnoticed, at least no comment can be heard. I do not draw attention to it, would probably have to get rid of it later, I have other worries, I am afraid of what is coming, want to avert it if at all possible.

      Throwing all pride overboard, I'm trying to soften them up. "Please, my beloved Ilona, I won't..."

      Irritated, she gets in my way. "Quit your whining!" Her next words are softer when addressed to Richard. "If you don't treat him strictly and consistently, he'll dance on your nose. Only if you train him will he be good."

      She hits me hard, spanks me with her whip and spanks me to the bone. As if I'd committed an unforgivable crime. It's all about lingerie. Which, in the eyes of my masters, may indeed be a very serious offense. Flames blaze on my poor bottom and I desperately pull the chains, which does not move the marble table a millimeter, which obviously weighs tons. There is no escape.

      When the ordeal is finally over, words sound as if from far away to my ear. "Maybe you'll learn something. There are expectations you must meet. Even if they are not explained to you again and again. Do you understand?"

      What she's asking for is psychic ability. I'm supposed to anticipate what they want from me? Although it's not really that difficult since I know what makes them tick. Just always do what's best and most humiliating, that will be the right thing to do. I push the answer out of my sobs: "Yes, my beloved Ilona. I understand."

      "And what?"

      "That I... I must always be very obedient."

      "It's the simplest formula," she says with unmistakable condescension. "But one can hardly expect more complex thoughts in your condition. Nor would they otherwise. But if you stick to it, it's okay."

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