As I reached my door, I glanced back and there she was, standing talking to one of the removal guys. She must've been about 5'7, long blonde hair in a...pony tail, curves in all the right places.It was summer time so she was wearing cut-off denim shorts and white vest top, her skin glistening a little from the hard work of moving. I paused at my door to take in the sight, and as I did, she saw me there and shot me a smile. Suddenly conscious I was staring, i smiled back and hurried inside.As I. “What do you say?” It only took me a moment to remember. “I control my pussy,” I gasped. The paddle appeared in front of my lips. “Kiss it.” I did, reluctantly. I braced myself for the next hit, but she waited until I relaxed to smack me again. She reminded me again, and I screamed it again, then kissed the paddle. By the fifth smack I was crying. By the tenth I was sobbing, screaming out my line. Mercifully, she stopped, kneeling by my head and cooing as she held me and calmed me down, dabbing. More

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