”“Thwack!”Unlike Maureen, who had remained silent as she had caned me, Doreen Hannah began laughing loudly, clearly enjoying caning me. Like her...sister, she took her time between each stroke, partly to let me regather my composure and partly so that she could scold me some more. After about five minutes, Doreen Hannah laid the dragon cane against the crease in between my right buttock and thigh and brought her cane down for that sixth, and final, time.“Swish.”“Thwack!”Just as her sister had. "Where do you think you're going, mister?" Marcy Driscol stood in the doorway, blocking his path to the Mercedes. In the glow of the emergency lights, he could see the determined look on her face and the single barreled shotgun, which was aimed squarely at his chest."Hello, Marcy. So good of you to make it." Mitch reached for the holstered 1911."Don't even think about it," she warned."We both know that peashooter ain't loaded. But before you die." He paused. "Again. I am curious, how in God's. More

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