Peter Burwell Starke

Oh God, what punishment was he planning for her? "No," Sam answered fatuously, his eyes turning to Sandra's sprawled figure. "Okay then, let's see what it is that she can't do without!" Mike jeered. Sandra couldn't help herself. "No Mike, please…" "Shut up, you little whore!" he snapped, his eyes blazing. Sandra cringed back against the wall, trying to stand up straight, but only succeeding in falling against the bales of straw in the corner. "What do I have to do?" Sam asked, relieved to find Peters' anger directed towards his wife. "I'll tell you what to do!" Mike snarled, "but first let me get the little lady, sorry, the whore, ready!" Sandra cowered piteously as Mike approached her, and shielded her face with her her arm. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, and pulled her to her feet. With one swift pull, he tore away her skirt, leaving her hips and thighs stark naked. And with a further exertion, he ripped the buttons of her blouse, tearing it from her shoulders. Last of all, he snatched away her blouse, leaving her totally naked. "Oh God, please don't…" she sobbed, trying to cling to her husband's arm, trying to elicit some warmth in him ...»