These would be tossed in the hamper in her room, and she'd get some fresh ones to wear before going back downstairs. Her mom would be no where the wis...r.Vicky looked at herself in the mirror. Did she look any different? Was there any sign that she was no longer a little girl? That she was a woman, with lovers?She hoped not.The boys were awake and sitting up as she descended the stairs once again. Each moved apart a bit, in unspoken invitation. Vicky slid down between them, feeling like a Vicky. I did not. Again,I was tied with my arms and legs spread. Again, he whipped mybehind and belly until, I confess, when a knotted lash struck mysensitive cleft, I screamed and begged him to stop. I discoveredthat my womanly cleft, stinging from the lash, was already dampand sensitive, waiting for the oil. He did not disappoint me. Ifelt him rubbing the oil into my bruised buttocks, a mixture ofpain and pleasure. And then he began to oil my cleft, therebetween my legs. I gritted my teeth. More

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