Then he swung his whip at my chin, leaving a long gash where it had struck."What is your name, boy?" the mayor cried."Andreas the Scholar am I styled... sir!" I told the mayor, who then lashed out at me with his whip, leaving a weal on my face."What's your real name, boy?" he cried."Andreas Matneyev, sir!" I shouted.Lashing out at my right shoulder, the mayor ripped apart the cloth of my dress, revealing the bull's head brand of my clan, the Matneyevs. Countess Bathory took one look at the. He watched as she walked her fingers down over her stomach, her legs spread, knees wide apart, feet touching. Her mound had a small triangle of red curls; Craig held his breath as her fingers circled her pussy, stroking her curls. It felt as if she was teasing him, her fingers moving closer, then circling away, each time, edging closer and closer.He could feel his grip tighten on the binoculars. He held them one-handed as his other hand tugged clumsily at the belt of his trousers, finally. More

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