Beside the open door another mirror offers a view of bare arse about to be spanked, pale curves echoed in the generous breasts turned towards the lens. The woman’s mask only serves to accentuate her singular beauty and the smile that plumps the pillows of her cheeks. Like Bataille’s Dirty and the adolescent Simone, she might be about to unleash her sovereign laughter. Or maybe she just heard those pinstripe trousers rip.

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