My Agony, foot discipline story (mf, ff)

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The THC Adult Text Archive: FTMYA.TXT (472 lines)
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My_Agony, foot discipline story (M/f or F/f).

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This story involve Foot discipline, in one way or the other.
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All pain Dr. stories contain pain, violence, graphic torture,
sadism and bondage. If you do not wish to read this, press n
now. You have been warned. All flames will be disregarded.

'I am relaxing in the Pain Drs. jet on our return trip from South
America. The Dr., sitting in the seat next to mine, is also resting.
His eyes are closed and his hands folded in front f him
. We're both exhausted after a long days work. It had taken the better
part of nine hours to break the two woman in Chile, but
we were both pleased with the outcome. I asked the Dr. if there
had ever been a time where he failed to get information from
a subject. "No, that's never happened", he said. "I remember though, that
in one particular case a woman was very stubborn and
extremely tolerant to the most horrific pain. I had to try
about sixty methods of torture lasting over a period of three days
before she finally cracked. But I am a patient man, patience
being very important in this line of work". He got out of his seat
and stretched as he walked to the rear of the plane to the galley. i
He returned a short while later with two glasses
of wine. "Here, he said, this will help you to unwind".
It was a semi-sweet Rose' and tasted nice on my parched throat.
I told the Dr. that I was very scared about what was ahead of me.
He explained that fear is the beginning of the process, that waiting
for what is surely to come is already the
first torture. "The mind can draw up many horrible expectations and this
is the beginning of the physcological phase". He reminded me that
I was free to stop anytime I chose, but that if I wanted to
work with him I would have to endure all to
the very end. As I looked in his
eyes I told him that I trusted him and knew he w
ould not make me suffer beyond what I could endure.
"You will experience severe pain, he said, but you
won't receive any torture
which would permanently disfigure you. Your eyeballs won't be gouged
out with a spoon, he chuckled. But so as to have an better understanding
of what your subjects will feel when you work on them,
a taste of the most common tortures plus some unusual ones
will be performed on you".
"He reached over and took my hand, holding it in his. I feel so tired,
I lay my head on his shoulder. It's hard to keep my eyes open i
and the room is spinning so. I didn't understand what s happening.
The wine. It's dark! I can't see anything! Where am I? I try to move but
I can't. My hands are tied over my head. I pull them down but they
pull right back up. Must be some type of rubber bungee cord
holding my wrists high. I can't move my legs or feet either.
They seem to be affixed in something, though I have no idea
what it might be. I try to speak but there is tape over my mouth and eyes.
"UMMPF" is all that comes out. Is there anyone there?
I hear nothing. I wait and wait and wait
some more. It seems like hours. My hands are becoming numb
from keeping my arms over my head for so long. I keep making fists
to get circulation in them. The wine, I remember the wine.
The Pain Dr. must have drugged me. Where is he? Is he here? I don't
know. Foot-steps. Coming closer. The sound of the door opening.
I hear men talking."Looks like she's awake, Alan",
the one says. "Good morning, Donna", says the second.
"I trust you've had a pleasant rest". I pickup a British accent.
"The Pain Dr. hired us to work on you; something about
being too emotionally involved with you to torture you properly.
He would have liked to have been here, however he was i
called away unexpectedly. But rest assured that we will do our
best to keep you entertained. Rod, would you please be so kind as to
remove the tape from Donna's eyes". "It would be a pleasure",Rod answered. I
suddenly feel a sharp pain as he violently tears the tape from my eyes,
taking with it many of my eyebrows and eyelashes. I wince into
the mouth tape. The light seems bright and out of
focus as I squint, trying to focus. He doesn't touch the tape on my
mouth, though. As I look at my torturers, I am surprised by
their youthfulness. They seem to be in their early twenti es and
are wearing only jeans and combat type boots. They wear no shirts
and have very muscular tanned bodies. Both are very
handsome, definitely G.Q. material, and not at all what I had expected
my inquisitors to look like. Perhaps I was expecting hunchbacks
named Igor, but nothing like this. "Don't let our young ages
fool you, Donna. We were trained by the best, the Pain Dr. Himself
and have had a lot of experience in dealing with worthless
whores like you". I look around and found myself in a REAL dungeon.
I mean, while the work room in Chile was modern with many shiny
chrome instruments and electrical gadgets, this place looks like a
movie set from some 1600,s witch trial. The walls are all cobblestone
with torches and oil lamps for lighting. The instruments
seem spawned from some nightmare centuries ago. An old rack,
A wooden table with thumbscrews mounted on it, old chains,
ropes, and pulleys, a high ladder against the wall reaching
up to the ceiling, a charcoal grill with many black iron handles
sticking out from it, etc. I look up and notice my hands bound
with a rubber cord to the ceiling. Looking down I see my feet
together but mounted seperatly in some type of iron foot
restraining device. There was a long screw about 8 feet long
underneath me with a crank on one end."Right about now you're
probably wondering what type of device you're on,
Alan said. Rod will explain it to you". Rod went over to
the wheel and gave it a turn which caused my feet to move apart from
each other about 6 inches. "You see, Rod said, with each turn
of the screw your legs will come apart 6 inches. As we continue
you muscles, tendons, and ligaments will stretch". Now this was
not like doing a split which I did as a little girl,
I thought. That's front to back. This is side to side and the
screws can continue being tightened even if my pussy were to touch
the floor, stretching my legs until they popped out of their sockets.
I'm terrified but not half as scared as I am when Rod brings
out another device and fits it into a hole directly under me.
It looks like a cactus only it's a rubber ball with dozens of
pins sticking out of it. It's mounted on a 6" metal bar. If I
survive going all the way down my sensitive pussy will be forced
onto the torturous needles. I know I couldn't survive that
kind of pain. PPPF (OH PLLLE\ SE I THOUGHT PLLEEESE OH GOD NO!)
"She looks scared", Alan said to Rod. "Good, Rod answered,
then we're ready to begin". Rod went over and started turning
the screw slowly. Six inches at a time. He would wait 30
seconds between turns and slowly turn the screw again. My feet
are about four feet apart when the pain in my legs really
begins to hurt. With each slow turn of the screw it becomes
more intense. The next turn has me screaming into the gag.
A severe cramp goes through my leg. As he continues to lower
me it becomes worse. I shriek into the gag, tears rolling
down my cheeks. (OH PLEASE STOP!!! MERCY I CAN'T STAND THE PAIN,
AH AH!) The pain is incredible! I feel like I am being
torn in half. My feet are now about 6 feet apart and I am
only inches above the needle ball. I just keep howling and
shrieking into the gag, I can't help it. My legs feel like
they are on fire. I have no idea what will happen when my pussy
makes contact with the needles. I've never fainted in my life,
so I don't know if I can count on that, but I am sure to be
revived if I do. Another turn has me totally hysterical, the
pain is so bad. I feel like I will be crippled, never able
to walk again. The next turn has me land right on the needle
ball, numerous pins pushing deep into my sensitive lips, and
clitoris. The pain is indescribable and unlike any I had ever
experienced. I feel a warm rush overtake me. I hear some poor i
woman horribly screaming in the background and I feel sorry
for her. As I black out I realize that woman is me I awake
in a puddle of water, coughing as it runs down my nose.
The pain in my legs is horrible and my pussy hurts so badly
as waves of throbbing agony shoot through it. I notice
dried blood on my legs from where the needles had pierced my
sensitive love hole. The tape has been removed from my mouth
and I can once again move my lips and tongue. My back is against
the floor and I stare up at my feet. A cord is holding my ankles
about three feet off the floor.I notice my big toes are lashed
together with a leather cord, and my large red toenails glisten
by the light of the wall torches as I flex them. While my hands
are free, they are useless with my feet suspended as they are.
Rod and Alan are talking by the door. They stop and come over
to me. "We are ready to proceed with your next torture", Alan
says to me. I know that no matter what I say I won't be able to
stop them, so I just turn my head away. Rod hands Alan a birch
cane about three feet long and a half an inch thick. Rod takes
another one for himself. They position themselves on each side
of my body. Rod winds up and brings the birch cane back and
using the full weight of his body, lands the tip on the soles
of my feet. It lands directly on the tender instep.AH!AAHHYH!!!
I scream out. My open palms are slapping the floor.Immediately
Alan's cane comes up and lands on the tender balls of my feet.
The pain is bad, REAL bad, as I shriek loudly. They continue
alternating strokes using full force behind each one. I howl out
in agony.OH!! AH!IIIAH! as the sensitive nerves in my soles
descend into a cascade of unbearable explosions. Again and again
and again. I can't scream anymore. I'm beyond that. Only
guttural moans come from deep within my throat. My mind is
focused Jonly on the continuation of the most unbearable pain
in the world. My body shakes violently as tears pour from my face.
I twist and turn and claw at the ground, but I can't get away, and
I can't make it stop. Gasping for air, I can't describe it, nothing
can. Then just as suddenly as it began, it ends. Had it continued,
I would have died. I'm sure of that. But NO, OH GOD NOOO!! Alan
comes back with another cane. This one is about five feet long
and an inch thick and made of heavy bamboo.NO DON'T! I scream
out. NO! But Alan winds up and brings it down on my feet.
They explode! I see flashing lights in my head. I try to scream out,
but there is no air, so I just gasp loudly. The most severe pain
in the world just goes on and on. Time stands still. A second seems
like hours. When Alan brings the cane down again, air is forced
out of my lungs. It's long and loud and doesn't end. Again the cane comes
down. My bones feel like they're shattering. My tiny feet must be
swollen like cantaloupes. I would confess to anything I wa
s asked to end this, but no one asks anything. I feel like I am
dying. Oh please God, let me die. Anything to stop this pain.
After about a dozen strokes Alan put the cane away. I just keep
howling and shrieking, rolling into a ball as Rod lowers the rope
holding my feet. As I lay there crying hysterically, Alan and
Rod come over and grab me under my arms and drag me to the chair
in front of the thumbscrews. The chair is a stout, very heavy
wooden chair without arms that is bolted to the floor in front
of it a heavy wooden platform holding a sinister looking vice
with many diamond like teeth. It has many thick leather straps
on it and while Rod holds me up in the chair, Alan secures the
straps around my ankles, upper legs, waist and chest.
Rod holds my hands together in front of me, gazing at my long red
fingernails, while Alan lashes my thumbs together with a thin
leather cord."You have beautiful hands and nails Alan remarks to me.
I will enjoy torturing them immensely", he said. Rod pushes my bound
thumbs into the ancient device. It is black and made of iron, with
triangular spikes on the bottom where the fleshy part of my thumbs
rested and the top which will be brought down Jon my thumbnails.
There is a lever on top which connects to a fine screw, allowing
my thumbs to be slowly and painfully crushed with impossible
force. Alan begins tightening the screw, just tight enough
so I can't pull my thumbs out. The triangular spikes bite into
the soft flesh holding them like a pitbull. I beg and plead with
him not to do this, but he just sits in the chair on the opposite
side of the narrow table and looks at me and smiles. He gives it
a quarter turn. I gasp as the diamond studs force the nails to
compress on my thumbs. He pays no attention and gives it
another quarter turn. I scream. I can't help it. I just have to.
I scream and scream again. It is that sort of pain. I have no
defense against it. It possesses me and knows no limits. I try
fighting against the straps of the chair but they hold me fast.
My unbound fingers are of no use just wriggling in sympathy as
my thumbs throb in agony. He gives it another quarter turn.
I really can't describe an experience like this. There are not
enough words in the English vocabulary to describe this type
of pain. Through the hysterical shrieks and sobs I keep blurting
out things like, "please stop", and "I'll do anything". It is
sort of a combination of loud horrible screams, pleadings and
beggings, moans and howls, and shrieking sounds. Alan is
enjoying this. I can see it in his eyes. This pain will go on
and on until he decides to loosen the screws. He can walk
away for lunch and I could do nothing but sit here and suffer.
He gives it another quarter turn. I am thrashing my head about
so violently that Rod comes up behind me and holds it tightly.
Tears are pouring out of my eyes and my face is contorted into
every possible shape to portray to Alan the agony I am in.
I know that if he tightens it again I would probably black out;
He does but I don't. The spikes have pierced my thumbnails
and blood is leaking out down my thumbs. The delicate and
super sensitive nerve centers at the base of the nails are
being unmercifully crushed. It feel like elephants are jumping
up and down on the digits and I can't take it anymore. I just
keep screaming and screaming. My face is probably purple and
my body soaked with sweat as Alan and Rod just watched calmly,
marveling at the effect of the cruel device.AH!!AH!AAH!
Loud hoarse screams just keep coming and coming. When I start
feeling faint they immediately loosen the screws, not wanting
to give me the chance to escape the torture by blacking out.
They remove my thumbs from the device and pull a lever and
the entire thumbscrew unit is lifted out of the table leaving
an 8 inch square hole. Rod slides a board into the hole which
fits securely, locking it in place with the lever. It is a flat
board containing many little leather straps with tiny buckles.
Alan cuts the cord off my thumbs with a pocket knife and Rod
holds my hands flat on the board while Alan buckles the straps
across my fingers. There are two large straps in the back holding
my wrists down, another across the back of my hand and two
smaller ones across each finger. My hands are now palm down on
the board and I can't move my fingers at all. I notice my swollen
thumbs and the blood leaking under the nails but they are not quite
as damaged as I had expected, although they continue throbbing and
hurting terribly. As I sit staring at my bound outstretched hands
and fingers, I begin wondering what led up to this. Just a month ago
I was an average 28 year old woman who occupied her time shopping
in the malls, dining out with friends and engaging in occasional
d/s scenes. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected to be
here, the object of intense physical torture. What started out as
a mere curiosity has led me to this; being tightly strapped into a
chair with my fingers now about to recieve unbearable punishments.
I keep thinking about the Pain Dr. and wish he were here to limit i
the lenghths that my inquisitors will go to make me suffer. But I
know that even he can not watch someone he truly cares for endure
what we both know has to be endured. My body aches. My feet, legs,
pussy and thumbs are still throbing angrily and they don't seem to
be letting up. Rod walks over to a drawer in the wall and upon
opening it retrieves a wooden box about the size of a cigar box
and upon opening the lid I notice that it is lined with dark blue
velvet and has numerous compartments of various sizes. It contains
many items which he removes one by one, setting them in front of
my fingers. While he's doing that, Alan takes a cotton swab and
soaking it with nail polish remover, begins to remove the shiny
red laquer from my fingertips. I yelp loudly when he touches my
sore and swollen thumbs and even louder when the acetone sinks into
the tiny holes made by the cruel teeth of the thumbscrew, stinging
and burning terribly. He carefully removes every trace of the polish,
telling me that it is important to be able to see under my nails to
properly assess my pain level. Upon finishing, Alan sits down in the
chair directly in front of my table, facing me. "Nail tortures are
among the most effective of all tortures based on the ratio of
pain to permanent damage", he says. "There ARE more painful things
we can do, but the risks of permanent damage or even death are much
greater", he continues. Because of this and his overall concern for
your well being, the Pain Dr. has specifically instructed us to spend
a large portion of our^M^Jefforts on this particular type of punishment.
Fortunatly we have a huge variety to keep us occupied and you attentive".
I began screaming, NO, NO! I CAN'T TAKE THIS TYPE OF PAIN! I remember
once as a teen I closed the tip of my ring finger in a drawer and the
nail turned black. I remember how badly it hurt! I also remember the
reaction of the woman at the Drs. mansion recieving the toe punishments
and how agonizing they were for her. But I know they were going to
go ahead no matter what I say, so I just grit my teeth together and
brace myself for what is to come. "Where shall we begin", Alan asks,
as if he really expects me to answer him. He picks up a small thin
stainless steel screw about three inches long and an eighth of an inch
wide with a pointed tip and very fine threads. "Hold her head",Rod,
he says, as Rod comes behind me and places his muscular arm over my
forehead. Alan takes the screw and a small screwdriver and puts the
tip under the middle nail of my left hand and begins screwing it under.
I scream, stuggling against my bonds ,as he screws it deeper and deeper.
I can see the screw under my nail and it is about halfway under when
he stops. The pain is incredible, my head trying to thrash about but
Rod keeps h olding it tightly, as I fight in vain to free my hands
from the straps holding them down. Alan just sits back savoring my
agony as I just keep crying and shrieking high pitched wails.
When I start slowing down my hysterical howls he begins screwing
again.EEEIIIOW!!!OOOW!OOOOOOW! I just keep at it, not stopping
for a second. I can't. He screws it in until the tip dissappears
under the skin at the base of my nail. The entire nail has
lifted from the finger due to the wedge effect of the screw. Blood
is leaking out in every direction as the threads of the screw are
damaging the sensitive skin underneath. Alan and Rod just watch
me struggle and cry as they prepare for the next torture.
Alan, takes a cotton ball, pours a little alcohol on it and swabs
my pinky nail thoroughly. He then takes a wooden match stick
with a sharpened end and forces it under the little nail, all the
way down. I scream out hysterically as pain shoots through the finger
to my brain at a thousand miles an hour. "Rod, would you cover
her mouth with your hand", Alan says? I scream into Rod's hand
as Alan takes another match and lights it. He ignites the exposed
tip under my nail and the match burns down, lighting the alcohol
on the nail."Don't let her blow it out", he warns Rod. The
alcohol causes the flame to burn brightly as I shriek out in pain,
watching my nail burn. The intense heat radiates throughout the
flesh on my finger. The pain is incredible and I can't move my
fingers in the slightest. My body spasams against the straps
shaking and vibrating violently. I scream and scream as I watch
my nail melt away and then everything goes dark. I awake with
a splash of cold water against my face. As my head hangs down,
water drips off my nose onto the table below. As I slowly raise
my head I notice the little finger of my left hand. The nail
is gone, burnt off for all practical purposes, and a dark
patch of black crusty skin is now in its place. The surrounding
finger is very red and swollen with tiny white blisters. The pain
is excrutiating. I remember burns as a child, and while they
were bad, they couldn't compare to this. This is a burn on one
of the most sensitive places on my body; the virgin flesh under
my nail. As I look up, expecting to see Alan or Rod, I am
startled to see the Pain Dr. standing there. He gazes intently
at my outstretched and wounded fingers and then looks into my
eyes."I had to be here to witness your sufferings", he said.
"I tried to stay away, but I couldn't". "Theyr'e hurting me badly",
I said in a pitious cracking voice."Yes", he said. "I knew they
would. But you are strong and will be able to survive it.
And when they are finished, you will be a tougher person for it".
"Please don't let them hurt me anymore", I said. "Do you still
want to work with me or do you want to end it now", he asked?
"No", I said. "I've come this far, I don't want to end now".
"There is still a lot of pain to come before you've finished",
the Dr. said. "I want you to do the tortures personally", I stated.
The Pain Dr. thought about this for a while, holding his chin with
two fingers as he paced the floor. "Very well", he says. "I will,
but you must not expect any favorable treatment or special
considerations. You will be treated in the same manner as the
rest of my clients. Understood?" I nod in agreement. "We must
finish your nail tortures, the Dr. said. You have experienced the
crushing of your thumbs, the insertion of the screw, and the burning
off of a nail. You will now experience a leveraged loosening along
with an extraction. Rod and Alan will assist me with this. Alan,
get me a wooden mallet". Rod puts a horse-shoe nail in the coal
grill. I look down and there is an iron horse-shoe nail
sharpened at the tip. It starts off narrow at the bottom and tapers
up towards the top. Rod picks the nail up with a pair of iron tongs
he has removed from the grill and places the nail in the hot coals.
Upon handing the Dr. the wooden mallet, Alan goes to the grill and
using the bellows forces air into the coals. After about 30 seconds,
Rod removes the nail from the fire. It wasn't red, but I knew it
had to be very hot. He brought it over in front of me.The Pain Dr.
spits on it and it sizzles. "Line it up with the ring finger
nail on her right hand", the Dr. says. I can see Rod holding it
by the edges so it would go under starting narrow and wedge the
nail up the further in it went. "Start it under", the Dr. says.
I scream as the hot point of the iron touches my fingertip,
making a hissing sound. All at once, the Pain Dr picks up the mallet
and gives it a light tap forcing it partly under the nail.AH!EEEIAHHH!
I shriek hystericaly. The Dr. then gives it a much harder blow,
sending it way under, totally prying the nail off the bed. The
combination of the hot iron and the lifting of the nail makes m
e go beserk against my bonds, Rod doing everything humanly possible
to immobilize my thrashing head. The strength of the leather straps
holding me down wer now put to the ultimate test as I'm sure I must
have been using superhuman strength against them. They hold me fast,
not allowing any movement on my part as I just scream and scream.
But as painful as that was, nothing could have prepared me for what
comes next. The Pain Dr., using the hot tongs Rod had in the grill,
grabs my nail with the horse-shoe nail imbedded under it and puts both
in the jaws of the giant pliers and yanks the nail out, roots and all.
I try to scream, but I can't. The pain is so bad that my mind doesn't
allow anything but concentration on the worst pain I had ever experienced.
I feel like a baby when it winds up to cry, just sucking air and sucking
air, but then I just let loose with a bone chilling scream that caused
the men to stand back and watch me suffer.AHH! AAHOWWEAHHH! I remember
watching them and the proud smiles on their faces as they know
they have reached the depths of my pain limits and then their faces
go blurry.The torch on the wall flickers in my eyes as I awake.
Laying on my back, my ankles are fastened to two corners of a
stained, splintery surface, while my wrists are fastened to the
other end. I look up over to my hands and noticed gauze and white
tape covering half my fingertips. While Alan and Rod adjust the
thick, coarse hemp ropes, I turned my head to the side and notice
the Pain Dr. sitting in a chair by the coal grill. I give him a
faint half -hearted smile which he promptly returns. Standing up,
he comes over and asks me how I am holding up. "Every part of my
body hurts", I tell him emphatically! He warns me that the next
torture would be very painful, more so than any I had yet
experienced. I found this hard to believe and told him so."If I do
this one wrong, he warned, you could die". That scared me
alot and I take several deep breaths, but I trust him and
know he wouldn't go too far. He begins explaining the entire
process."As you've probably figured out, you will be slowly
stretched until your body is suspended into the air. This will
stretch your tendons and put great strain on the joints of your
shoulders, elbows, hips, and knees. With continued tightening
your joints will audibly seperate from their sockets. Even tighter
and your bowels will break through your abdomen. Your spinal
column will be elongated which can cause paralysis and even death.
As the muscles in your chest are pulled tighter breathing and
making sounds will become much more difficult".By now I am totally
terrified. "Please don't do this to me",I beg the Dr."I won't be
able to stand it!!". He tells me that I will have to endure this
if I am going to work with him. I try to prepare myself for the
most horrendous pain immaginable. But^M^Jnever having been
stretched before, I don't know what level of agony to expect.
The Pain Dr. turns the mechanism and the ropes on my wrists pull
taut. NO!! I scream out half in fear and half out of instinct.
As reality sets in it causes a wave of terrifying panic in me.
I struggle violently yet vainly against my bonds, the rough wooden
rack causing splinters to pierce my soft naked back. I try to
gain control of myself as the Dr. tightens the mechanism notch
by notch. An eerie creaking sound emits from the ancient device
as the tension on my arms slowly increases. Tighter and tighter,
I feel my back and ass slide over the splintery wood as my body
draws taut. There is a tightness in my ankles as the first tinge
of pain from my shoulders and elbows shoots through me.
AH!" I gasped as the pain increases with every notch. My knee
and hip joints begin hurting, causing a severe burning pain
as the ropes lift me off the bed. The next notch causes the
most intense wave of excrutiating agony, shooting through
my entire body. E!IAHOWAH!- I scream, gasping for air
against my strained chest muscles. Sweat is pouring off my
tightly stretched,^M^Jnaked body. He gives it another turn and my
head thrashes from side to side while my hands flex and toes
curl.STOP!PLEASE! NO MORE! I Yelled, but the racking continues.
I scream and scream. The pain has to stop. It just has to It can't
go on like this! But instead it just keeps getting worse and worse.
Again and again he turns the mechanism until I hear two loud cracks.
I'm sure he broke my arms as the worse pain immaginable went
through my elbows and forearms. "AH!!!AH 0H!AH!"
The Pain Dr. tells me that my elbows have dislocated from thier sock
ets which causes a pain that there is no way I can describe. There are
no words in language which can explain what it's like.
My arms explode sending signals to my brain at ten thousand miles an
hour. The pain is too severe to scream. I can just moan.
Long, throaty, gutteral moans. I can barely remember the ropes
loosening, but the pain went on and on. Rod and Alan held me do
wn while the Pain Dr. grabbed each arm and firmly yanked each
arm as I heard i
loud cracks, each being forced back into their sockets.
The Dr. picked me up in his arms and cradled me, as I continue
sobbing on and on. "We're finished now", he tells
me. "You've suffered enough and proved that you're in this for keeps.
Rest now, as we have a job in about two weeks". He carr ied me out
of the dungeon to an upstairs bedroom. I remember the injection
and the Pain Dr. stroking my hair."Sleep now, my love".

Conclusion My Agony

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