Where I was looking. He put his hands over himself. "Don't do this." He looked at the dark shadow under my dress. "I can't get you out of my mind. I... " he stopped while I carelessly recrossed my legs, letting him see a flash of my maroon lace panties. "... Yes!" he whispered. I put my legs back together. "I don't want to upset you." I pulled my dress down. Charlie looked sheepishly at the floor. "Don't tease me." He stood up. "Women always tease me, just because... I - " "You have a little fetish." I loved his discomfort. "I think it's sexy." He looked at me. "Sexy? And you'd tease me?" "Perhaps it's I who's been wrong." I was curious where this was going. "You have been." He looked down at indian sex me, vindicated by my acknowledgment. I recognized his need to indian sex be shamed followed, like now, by
His need to feel control. "I've been bad," I suggested, "wearing naughty underwear, and leaving it around for anyone to see." I feigned contrition. "I've been insensitive, worse, I've put you in a difficult position." Charlie smiled. "I'm glad you understand what you've been doing to me - that you know how bad you've been." "I promise I won't tell anyone." I put my hands in my lap. "I won't do it again." "I'm not sure I can trust you." "But you can... If you were to punish me... " I have no idea where the thought came from. Of course I've enjoyed teasing, but my sex life has been basically normal. I think I was as shocked as he was, but I had to keep going; I couldn't stop. "I'd never, ever, tell indian sex or do it again." "Punish?" he repeated the word quietly. The thought of it seemed to
Arouse him more. "Yes... that might work." "Please." I looked up at Charlie, my voice dropped. "I could never tell... not if you spanked me." Charlie sat on the bed next to me. He stared at me, waiting as if he weren't sure of what I had said, and wanting confirmation. "I deserve it," I whispered. "You do," he said, reaching for my shoulder, and pulling me down, across his lap. I could feel his little man pressing into my tummy. Suddenly, it was I who felt humiliation. A grown woman, lying on across someone's lap to be spanked. Memories of being punished as a little girl flooded my mind... sometimes in public... the shame of being exposed and made helpless... the pain... the indian sex crying... Now, nearly thirty, I was again that little girl. indian sex His hand came down on my fanny. Not hard, but it startled me. "Oh!" I screamed.
"You've been a tease." He slapped me again, harder. I wiggled a little, rubbing his hardening tool. And, I was surprised to realize, I was getting turned on. "Make me sorry," I said. <Slap.> "Make me know how bad I've been." <Slap.> "Wait!... Please, don't wrinkle my dress." He pulled my dress up over my waist. He slapped me. This time it stung. Tears came to my eyes, and I wasn't sure if I had made a mistake or not. "Stop!... I won't do it again." <Slap!> Somewhere, within the pain I was getting unbelievably excited. "Whore!" he yelled. <Slap!> I tried not to scream, but I struggled against his arm that held me firmly over his lap. "I'll do anything." "Bitch!" <Slap!> I couldn't take any more. "Please! I'll - " <Slap!>...
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