I agreed to go with Tammy to the movies,but then she surprised me with a question I kind of knew was coming butjust didn't expect it at the moment. She asked me about the pantiesshe'd given me. She wanted to know if I'd worn them since the day she'dasked me to. She didn't wait for a response. She started asking me ifthey'd been washed and if so, did I wash them by hand. "I'm sure youwouldn't have just thrown your panties in the wash with the chance thatyour mother might have seen them."I was at a loss for words. How could I respond to these peculiarquestions? I thought it best just to tell her the truth. "First of all,I hand washed them because I didn't want Mother to find them in thelaundry." Did you hang them in your bathroom to dry?" she asked. Thisconversation was not going the way I expected it to go. Why was sheasking me about those panties?"Of course, I didn't hang them in the bathroom." I responded. Iexplained that it would have been worse for Mother to find that I'd. I hoped He would bring out one of our vibrators — but I whined at the sharp sound of something cutting through the air.A surge of panic rushed over me as fear of that sound pulsed through my body. I whined again, uselessly squirming as He ran the leather end of the riding crop up my inner thigh. It's cold, rough texture felt stark and unforgiving against my tender flesh. My chest tightened and my breath refused to come as I became torn between fear of the coming pain and my deep-seated need to feel it mark my skin.I was trembling and the words, Oh, fuck, no. Please don't hit me there, screamed in my mind when he tapped the crop on my cunt. I wanted the scream to become real, but my heaving chest refused to expel my breath, and only a garbled groan escaped my gagged mouth.For several long moments, He teased my pussy until I was panting with lust. I became confused — how should my body show my torment? — but soon I was rolling my hips toward those rapid taps despite the sting burning.
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