The Turk let go with a mighty blow of the whip across her t**s.
“Ohhhhhhh,!” she cried out. “Oh, God! Oh! That hurts! Please don’t whip me! I’ll do anything you want. Please!”
Turk paid her screaming no mind. Ruthlessly, methodically, he traversed her body with the cane. Across her stomach, the front and rear of her thighs, her ass and her back, and of course, her breasts again. More than twenty blows fell on the girl’s flesh. Her screaming had deflated to a constant low wail by the time the Turk was finished. She was a sweaty, red marked mess. She slumped rather than stood. The Turk put away the cane. Cheryl had watched the girl’s pummeling with astonishment. She knew now why the Turk had whipped her. It was an awesome thing to watch.
The Turk’s manhood tented against his trousers. He
