“Yes, a very bad girl.” The stroking is terrible. Knees wide, vulnerable. Soft, light strokes, a teasing, orgasm producing stroke. “Your cunt is...wet.” I felt my shame that day. The first time I ever really felt it. I felt my shame with every stroke of my sex, and with every slap of his hand. Not a hard slap. But it didn’t have to be. It was on my sex that he spanked me. “Stay still for it, my Love.” And he would take his hand off my sex. I learned that it would strike in moments, but I was. Just commands.But as the week went on, the fantasies in her head ran away with her. Could she maybe live it out? On Friday, she was still torn, so she drove to his neighborhood early and looked at his house. It looked like a nice suburban house, hardly noteworthy. There was no car in the driveway, but there was an attached garage. The lights were on downstairs. As 8 PM approached, she'd decided that she would regret it if she passed up the chance, so at 8 PM on the dot, she walked through his. More

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