Inside was a single folded piece of paper that had written in print; “OPEN YOUR E-MAIL AND CLICK YES ON OUR TERMS OF SERVICE!” Joyce looked over t...e brief yet commanding message. She checked the envelope; it was indeed addressed to her by name and desk.Submitting to her curiosity in the knowledge that her work would keep for the next five minutes, she opens up her e-mail. There she found several of the usual notices for updates on her social networking accounts. Nothing strange there. A thought. She sat with a snivelling and sobbing schoolgirl over her knee for a few minutes before picking the paddle up in her right hand and sitting back in the padded chair. She could feel the heat in her crotch with having Emily over her knee for a while.“Up you get, young lady. Go and stand where Chloe is. Chloe, come and get yourself over my knee.” Amelia smiled as Emily Richardson struggled to her feet.Within a minute, Emily was standing across from Amelia’s office door, wiping the tears from her. S., soil and realise the fool was presenting a mirage all the time. But fuck the fool; this post isn’t for the likes of that wimp but for the realest ones in here.Most Bulls wouldn’t be much concerned about a white hubby wishing for the Bull to come bang the wife, and sometimes I can understand that. Except I’m not like one of such. Being a Bull with a swinging dick between his legs is more like hiring a gunslinger back in the wild West. But having a Master around, that takes a lot more tact. That is wrong. The chisel used to carve those lines is heavy and wielded by a clumsy hand.“However, there are other lines etched with a more delicate touch. Laugh lines around the eye brought about by years of laughter, shared pleasure, and interesting conversations. We see these lines and say this was a jolly person. It’s remarkable that such lines even exist because the chisel is fine and wielded by a soft hand.“Finally, there are lines so finely wrought that it’s almost impossible to see.
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