She would be sleeping on her stomach tonight and sitting as little as possible tomorrow. "Are you ready, Little One?" "Yes, Sir." He stood and offered...his hand, helping her up. He patted her ass as she headed into the bedroom for the hairbrush, well, a hairbrush. There were several to choose from. She picked a wooden one with a square flat back and soft bristles. She returned, handed him the brush, and he led her to the doorway. She stood in the middle of it as he partially closed the French. She yelped at the intrusion, like a hard bowel movement in reverse. She felt painfully full, understanding that he was going to fuck her ass. He pounded into her savagely. It felt like she was being turned inside out. While he abused her tender ass he pulled her shoulders up arching her back painfully. His hands were around her throat, squeezing off the blood to her brain, but letting her breath. Dark mists crowded into her consciousness, never quite closing in all the way. He drove her. More

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