I get up as Mike tugs on my leash and says, “It’s time for your punishment.” We go into the playroom. Mike take me over to the torture table and uses the remote to stand the table up on end. He attaches my arms and legs to each corner of the table with leather hand and ankle cuffs. As Lisa and Ted just stand off to the side watching, Mike asks, “Would you like to use the other side of the table for Lisa?” Ted looks at Lisa, who is shaking her head no, and says, “Oh no, we’ll just watch right now if you don’t mind.” Mike says, “It’s okay we don’t mind.” With that he goes over to the wall and gets my purple flogger with leather on one end and a feather on the other. He walks back to me and slaps me across the stomach with the leather, whack. Now he smacks my inner thighs, whack, whack. He gets the paddle and slaps my pussy hard. Once, twice, I scream out, “Ouch.” Mike grins, he smacks me again. Now he is using the feather, lightly tracing it up the inside of my thigh. Now he is. I'd actually known her father for some time but only as someone who used the same pub in the village where my mother moved to after my father died. When I used to visit my mother ('coming home' she called it although I never actually ever lived there) I would often go down with my new stepfather, Walter to the local pub and have a drink. He was an inoffensive chap and whilst we had little in common he was pleasant enough company and as a matter of course I was introduced to his circle of friends who he used to meet to gossip over a pint or two. One friend, Ernie, was seemingly always in attendance at the pub when we got there and occasionally he brought his daughter Carole, who I reckoned to be 16 or 17 at the time (half my age!), along with him and, daringly, she was allowed to have alco-pops.My weekend visits soon assumed this 'other attraction' and I used to look forward to seeing her for she was, to my eyes, a Wet Dream with the most important feature in a girl that I lusted.
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