Every time Mistress Flavia struck me, my aching, writhing body was pressed against Ophelia’s, and she seemed to twist and clench my cock tighter..�...Whip the prisoner until he bleeds,” shouted Ophelia.Mistress Flavia was determined not to stop scourging me until I was indeed bleeding. Each time she struck me, a spasm of terror and pain raced through my body. My back felt as if it were on fire, and each lash of the whip increased the heat, pain, and fear I felt. Ophelia still had her body pressed. Yes, sensual, a kiss to be savoured, slowly and at length. Not the lip mashing mouth to mouth resuscitation type kiss much loved by story writers, but the sort of kiss that seems to stimulate every single nerve ending. Separately.The kiss ends. Not dramatically, not abruptly, it just peters out, it runs its full course, and having run, it ends. But not before I have worked out how I think I can ensure that this is not a single, one off, stand alone event, but the prelude to much, much more.We. More

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