It was nothing out of the ordinary, Father Paul, who was the priest at our church, would come by frequently to sit in our living room with my mother a...d talk about church business; who would do what for the upcoming bake sale, ideas for the school, and the occasional gossip of who hadn’t been attending Mass lately.Father Paul seemed to me to be a strange man, something I couldn’t put my finger on exactly, but yet still there.When in church, or standing behind the pulpit, he would talk softly of. OMG. OMG! It hurt! It hurt! She couldn’t take this anymore. “Master, I’ll sign. I’ll sign!”Howard chuckled to himself. He knew that the little slut could not resist pain. But it was not over yet. He was going to teach the little slut the nature of her slavery. He was her Master and held the power of life, death, and pain over her. She would never dare to defy him again after this whipping. He knew from experience that after the first good whipping, slave sluts lost any defiance that they had. More

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