There are zero niceties from the start. My heart pounds in anxiety, expectation and fear. Porn sex Justice is about to be done. Maybe it’s one stroke every ten or fifteen seconds, I don’t know. I am warned that’s my last opportunity to drink if I need it. From time to time, I can hear more people entering the house. I am scared to death. By then, I can barely notice it. The wide-open-mouth gag is kept to prevent me from biting my tongue. The Nurse comes from time to time to check I am OK, meaning I am not dying of anything. The Leader just says:
“Two.”
And so they go on, at a constant pace, without paying the slightest attention to my reactions. The slightest doubt or resistance are immediately treated with brutal blows to the face and lashes of a belt. The People are mostly having a drink and chatting among themselves. But it doesn’t stop, on the opposite, it seems to hurt even more and more and more with throbbing flames. This is a real punishment, not kinky play. The Leader remembers The People -and me- why I am about to be punished with a stern, scornful voice.
