Your back arches and your head snaps back, as you scream in agony from the blow. I throw the belt onto the bed and walk to the table to get my drink. ... turn and watch you, struggling to come to terms with the pain you are feeling, struggling to resist the urge not to move your hands to rub your marked arse. Putting the glass down, I instruct you to drop to your hands and knees and to come and kneel in front of me. I grin as I watch your breasts sway below you, as you slowly advance, unable to. Those are the ones I thought about, not the more frequent punishments that my mother doled out.We would have been sent to bed while Tony was called into Dad's den. He would have to wait for a while until Dad was good and ready.Meanwhile, I would get the younger ones ready for bed and tell them that Tony was going to be spanked, and why - that he was protecting them and protecting me so we wouldn't get it. What was about to happen was going to save them from having to experience the terror.I. More

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