She looked like a boy with a smarting bottom, holding his hinds as he rushed from some punishment, the parasol in front looking for all the world like some ersatz penis.
Linda blushed, put the parasol back over her head, and let go of her behind violent cartoons.
Nervously she arranged the ends of her blonde mane, found it too short to cover her titties.
Oh, violent toons my, Linda lamented.
Even her breasts would have to show, absent a tied-up camisole.
Now I know why my husband made torture cartoons me cut my hair!
Mistress laughed.
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