Finally I pull the hose from her throat. Barb instantly vomits, water spewing out her open mouth. Again-- another frothy, choking gush down her tits, her swollen stomach. Then she’s gurgling, gasping through the ring gag. She hangs there from her wrists, pinned on the wooden horse, just struggling to breathe. You will look at me when you speak to me, little girl.” He increased the tempo and the harshness of each swat.

This method of punishment was occasionally used in the Western world; however, it was more common in South and Southeast Asia, especially in India. This form of capital punishment is known also as gunga rao and has been used from the Middle Ages until the 19th century. I don’t care if you hate me, Peter,” Jenny continues, putting away her phone. “If you don’t listen, I will send the signal to your uncle and in the blink of an eye—that bike will be dust.” You have to credit ProPublica and any co-reporting partners. In the byline, we prefer “Author Name, Publication(s).” At the top of the text of your story, include a line that reads: “This story was originally published by ProPublica.” You must link the word “ProPublica” to the original URL of the story. We’re going to straighten you out Peter,” Jenny smiles, sitting in an armchair. “You can’t keep acting out as you have been.”Water gushes down Barb’s legs, through the grate beneath her. She wails with every straining push, shitting the enema out, her asshole straining and squeezing in surges. In European societies during the Middle Ages, a concept known as the iudicium Dei (meaning ‘the judgment of God’) was the basis for this. It was believed that God would intervene and protect an innocent person during a trial by ordeal or punish the guilty. If you use canonical metadata, please use the ProPublica URL. For more information about canonical metadata, refer to this Google SEO link.

Lowering her in his powerful arms, he lay her on their dark cherry wood floor. Tiny repeated ripples stole her conscience sex as he settled beside her. I fondle her ass for a bit, making her squeal. Her hole is tight and tiny, clenching even harder as I rub it. “I really hope you’re a virgin. You were always a slut, but I can hope.”You can’t edit our material, except to reflect relative changes in time, location and editorial style. (For example, “yesterday” can be changed to “last week,” and “Portland, Ore.” to “Portland” or “here.”) Other shame masks were designed with exaggerated facial features. Those made with long noses could be an indication that their wearers were guilty of lying, of being nosy, or of being proud and arrogant. Gossiper shame masks had long tongues attached.

Smoothing her dress over her stinging bottom, she followed him downstairs, determined to be the gracious hostess he expected. Kudos to that sub teacher for catching the quirk at the start of junior school, bless her little pudding-bum, though much of the scarring had taken hold by then. She obeyed, her skin stretching taut, swamping her paddled bottom in a storm of fresh sting. Appalled by her prospective pain, she cherished his ruthless zeal. Thank you for your interest in republishing this story. You are are free to republish it so long as you do the following: The Davenports departed, well nourished and infused with confidence. She relayed her private conversation with Mrs. Davenport to Mark.

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Given her lengthy attitude, it was a just punishment. Ache would deepen, disciplining her for several days. I guess I still don’t see the reason for concern,” I said, “but you said there is something I can do to assuage Mary’s anxiety? I’d like to keep this as pain free as possible, so what can I do to help?” It seemed Susan was at our house more and more as the process dragged on. I didn’t think Mary was having that much trouble adjusting, but when it was just Mary and I, she seemed down in the dumps, then Susan would appear and the two of them would start whispering to each other and often break into laughter when I entered the room. I never questioned their rudeness, just glad to see Mary, with Susan’s help, handling the transition. Don’t worry," her father said. "You’ll be getting another spanking on Monday. You’ve committed too many crimes to just get off with one spanking." His sharp leather signatures delivered fiery pain. She analyzed her interactions, struggling to discover a single polite one. His uncompromising toughness pulsed pleasure into her sex, clearing spaces in her mind for genuine remorse. Thin rectangles of penetrating heat replaced fading strokes, keeping her bottom ablaze and her conscience clear. He was beating her without debate. She deserved it. Strapping her hard, he was leaving her lowest curves - on which she would sit - untouched.