My hands held in defensive position in front of me, I shuttled back towards the door, my eyes never leaving him. In a graceful move, I put my bag on. ...nd I backed up to the door. It was locked! My hand behind me tried to wiggle it. Flipping around to face the door I realized it was locked with a key! CRAP!Now I had goaded a bull, and was trapped in the room with him. Obviously he had the key. He looked up at me, eyes wild. Bending my knees slightly, I came down to full fighting position. Hands. Got it?" He nodded his head, clearly not trusting himself to make a sound. I hit him again. And again. And do you know, he didn't complain once more, or move, or forget the count, so terrified was he of receiving more punishing strokes from that evil brush. You see, corporal punishment really can make a difference! When I'd finished, I kissed his cheek, damp with tears gratified to see his genitalia shrivelled and pathetic between his legs, curled protectively against one thigh, like a baby. More

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