‘Did you look at the menu?’ ‘No,’ said Jim, ‘but I know what I want—fried chicken dinner.’ ‘Mashed or fries?’ ‘Fries.’ ‘Cole s...aw or apple sauce?’ ‘Slaw.’ ‘Dressing on your salad?’ ‘Thousand Island.’ The waitress turned to Hildy. ‘What about you, dear?’ Hildy hadn’t looked up. ‘I’ll have the same as him,’ she mumbled. The waitress scribbled a bit on her pad. ‘Cheer up, sugar. The chicken will be a little greasy, but it won’t be that bad.’ The waitress turned and walked away. Jim started. “Please make me come, I want to come.” “You will, baby, you will. I promise.” He flipped me over onto my stomach, causing my arms to cross over, holding me even more tightly. I heard him move around again, and then felt him at the end of the bed. “Now, keep your legs still,” he instructed me, “Or I’ll tie them down as well.” Then, my ass was on fire, a line of fire, stinging and feeling good at the same time. He’d fucking whipped me. And I’d fucking liked it! The whip cracked against my ass. More

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