Mrs. McMahan disputed my account that her son had failed to do his part. I sympathized with her, saying that it was just as well that he wasn’t ther... because I could use my time more effectively than by having to give him constant direction. She responded by saying that sweeping the basement floor was demeaning, inconsistent with her son’s abilities. Paige was unusually talkative on the ride to the house. ‘That was fun. Did you have fun, Brian?’ ‘Yes, I had fun.’ Mrs. McMahan and her son were. You pick up two pegs and attach one to each nipple. I wince and you ignore me but I see a smug look on your face. You pick up a smaller peg and go to put it on my clit and I scream and tell you no. You stop in your tracks shocked by your defiance. You grab my face ad slap me. You see a tear roll down my face from the sting of the slap. You laugh at me, a dirty horrible laugh. You tell me I am going to get punished for that later. You go back to what you was doing and put the peg on my clit and. More

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