It was her frustration speaking out to the walls of her mind. Whether he would accept what little she had to offer was another question entirely. She...knew he liked her. She knew he cared for her. But, she wondered, did he care for her that way? Did he care for her enough, that way? Would he ever care for her that way? Every time she looked in the mirror, she saw her answer. Her milk chocolate face stared back at her. While she thought herself at least pleasant to look at, she knew the color. The pain was equallyintense and I yelped, crying out, "Please! ...No more!" But the third andfourth deliveries quickly followed, each below the previous stripe. Beadsof sweat had formed across my brow and I was gasping for breath, whileresisting the urge to stand up because of the obvious consequences. Thefifth stroke landed parallel with the others but across my upper thighswhere there was less fat to absorb the impact. The resulting pain wasindescribable and I again screamed out in despair.. More

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