”I watched her walk away. She was a small woman, but well put together. Her dark blonde hair fell just below her shoulders and her body tapered to a...slim waist before flaring out to some generous curves. Her husband had been a lucky man.As Ted and I dug, tilled, planted, and tended we would see the girls spying out of the windows, catching a peek at what we were doing until we saw them. Once seen, they would scurry out of sight. After the first week, their mother would send them out with water,. Now there is the sound of running water and your mind frantically sifts through the hundreds of possibilities. The sounds of my return do nothing to calm your racing thoughts. There is the barest movement of air across your chest and you anticipate my touch there. You are surprised when instead there is the sensation of moist warmth on your now hairless center. A warm towel draped carefully across the recently shaved area will soften the bristles that remain. The heat soothes you yet again and. Later onthat year I was home and the sitter was talking on the phone. I wentinto my parents bedroom and started trying on my mother's clothes likeI'd done many times before; dressing up and pretending I was a woman.Well, my father came home early and caught me. That was the only time hephysically hurt me, hitting me in the face. I was petrified. My mothercame home and I lied about falling on the stairs to get the bruise.Well, the punch did the trick for me. I never acted like a girl. " But nothing. A slave does not say 'but' to her master. Do you want to continue incur more strokes? I think not. Now, may we continue without further argument?"Very grudgingly, but fearful for her bottom and well aware that he could add as many strokes as he wished, she mumbled, "Yes, Master." Much better," said the Emir and moved away behind her somewhere.His hands again stroked the curves of her buttocks and slipped into the cleft. Bridget had been spanked, and spanked hard, as a child; she.
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