Blood splattered on the white sheet and although most wounds closed just after the stroke, there were some that kept on bleeding for a longer time and...small trails of blood were trickling down my thighs. It felt like this pain and vicious fire which was running through every nerve in my body would never end. I was totally obsessed with the pain and I felt the well known sensation as the endorphin level was starting to rise. When I finally had administred the 48th stroke, my poor buttocks were. I thought about it. The motions of his hand, if not exactly conducive to thinking, were very conducive to agreement."That would be lovely," I said. He moved toward the middle as I retreated to the very edge. Then I climbed over him. This position, even after all the years of practice, takes a little adjustment. He held me with one hand and himself with the other. As I eased down, he fitted us. I had to move an inch lower in the bed, but I sat on him until I was totally impaled.He inhaled with a. More

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