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"He looked at me hard and put his fingers between my privates and felt my clit, which had stayed quite a bit more swollen then usual. "You're lying," he said with finality. Of course I am but I don't want to be punished. My heart starts to race and the tingle returns. "What?" I asked. "You're lying. You rarely call me Sir. You would've just said yes or no if you were telling the truth. Plus your privates are swollen like you broke the rules, so I know you're lying,"My heart sunk. It didn't work. He handed me a knife."Go outside to the Ash tree and cut yourself three switches."I was crying and I reached down to pull up my pants when he commanded "Leave them down!"I was crying as I went out the door. The pleasure wasn't worth it now, and the butt/pussy tingle were bad now. I was going to be whipped for this and I was going to hate it. I selected my switches, and I walked back in. He sent me to hunt down my paddle and the strap. I came back with them and he instructed me to remove all of. It missed nothing on the surface of the earth. Nothing at all. The Cadillac had disappeared towards it, presumably thinking it was just a thunderstorm. The fat man knew where to go. Where he had gone as a child – under the boardwalk, in that gap between the building and the dirt of the ground. He had scurried deep into the bowels underneath the hotel, terrified. Just a five year old boy, watching as his older brother stayed close to the edge of the tornado’s path. His five-year-old eyes saw his brother ripped up from underneath the hotel, just torn away like a piece of masking tape, never to touch the ground again. The fat man knew how to stay alive. What the fat man had forgotten was how much larger he was than a small child. He could get in – just. But half his torso lay outside the shelter of the bank. It lay in the path of the tornado. He squirmed like a lion’s half-dead prey, trying to prise himself deeper into the building’s grip, but the size of the animal he was asking it to.
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