Imprinted in the leather was the word “SLUT”, mirror imaged. When it struck the skin, it would leave the word momentarily etched into my (or, occa...ionally, Jess’) ass cheek.“I love it!” Emma said, admiring it.“Thank you, Mistress. It gets the job done, I assure you,” Jess said.Emma had started out all gung-ho, but then she didn’t know how to proceed with actually paddling me (or anyone else for that matter.) Jess saw her uncertainty and leaned over to whisper in to her ear. Emma listened. Often this back and forth bantering went on in front of Edgar. He took no particular notice and this gave the raillery pseudo innocence. After all, it could not be serious if I said it with my husband present, could it? Edgar continued to go away on his visits to the country branches, and it was noticeable that during the period of his absence, Jeremy and I became more sombre in our relationship. I suppose it was a sort of defensiveness that said that it was all right to flirt while Edgar was. More

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