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The sound it made as the cane hit the woman was deafening. Jin’s brother was holding nothing back.As the caning continued, the males of the house continued sitting impassively on the stools. I was shocked that Jin allowed this to take place and just as I was going out to stop this travesty, it stopped. Jin’s brother stepped aside as the woman slowly got up onto her feet. As she was getting up, I found my attention focused on her for the first time. The woman was wearing the traditional women's hanbok; a jeogori which covers the arms and upper part of the wearer's body to just below her breast, and a wrap-around skirt called a chima which reached to her feet. Her hair was styled into a bun on top of her head and the stifling, rigid mutemask was wrapped around her head. The mutemask made it impossible for the woman to speak or even turn her head; that was when it hit me. The woman was in formal attire. This was the clothing women wore when they went outside their house. While women. He was jerking himself off as he finished the milk from her bottle. When it was sucked dry and John's strokes continued to quicken, she unscrewed the nipple from the glass bottle. “That's right, John. Doesn't that feel good?” A fingertip caressed his face. “Are you all full up?” She brought the glass bottle down toward his quivering manhood. “Well, there's more where that came from, I promise,” she took his chin in her other hand and peered into his face, reading every hint of expression. His eyes were clamped shut while hers were wide and alive. “Do you know what that was, honey? In the bottle?” His every muscle stiffened. “I think you do. You just don't want to admit it to yourself.” He teetered on the brink of orgasm. “Why, it was my milk, of course.” Her words pushed him over the edge. His release came in a torrent; she moved immediately to gather him in the bottle, placing the glass over the head of his shaft as it spasmed. “Mmmm..now this is what I wanted.” She waited patiently.
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