I catch my breath. I see him on my right side now. I shudder. It will be my front now. He draws his arm back and strikes, before I can close my eyes. ... scream. My right breast is on fire. The crop hit the top of my mound. I cannot help it and look down, to see the angry red stripe, crossing the front of my breast. He pauses, to let it sink. I know the drill; nine more on my right breast; the last three on the sensitive areola and the last one smack on the nipple. Again the crop falls, and again. Main unhe ungli se bulati hui boli: Aayina papa, kya wahi khade dekhoge, hahaha!Woh muskurate hue palat kar darwaze ko band kiye aur fir mere paas aane lage. Mere paas aate hi main apni jangho ko phailakar apni pyaasi choot unhe dikha kar boli: Chaliye, ab apne kaam par dhyaan dijiye.Papa mere peeche aaye aur meri gand ko pakad pahle sahlaye. Aur fir apne lund ko pakad meri choot ki honto par ragadne lage.Main masti ke sath chidti hui boli: Mmmm! Ghusaiyena papa!Papa: Shhh! Dheere. Bagal kamre. More

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