To get on the barstool Alison had to scoot her ass up on the stool, which caused her legs to open a little.Looking at John, Eric smiled. He had been l...oking at Allison’s legs when she sat on the barstool. Her skirt was so short that he could see the thick patch of brown hair on her pussy as she’d slid onto the stool.“I see you dressed for the occasion,” Eric said, looking directly at Allison, and then asked her what she’d like to drink.“It is what John had me wear, he wanted me to look like a. The video was rolling. She was breathless waiting to find out what instrument he chose. Would it be a crop? A whip? A paddle?WHACK! Paddle, then. It hurt. It hurt a lot. His strokes were measured. They landed with authority.“One, sir. Thank you, sir!” She was required to count. She'd added her gratitude on her own. He never specified, never objected.WHACK! Same cheek. “Two, sir. Thank you, sir!”WHACK! Same cheek. WHACK! Same cheek! Ouch! She prayed he would move to the other one as she was on. More

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