A sense of responsibility hits you too. Feeling obligated to give me what I need, you carefully play out the spanking in your head.Smack! Smack! Smack... Smack! Smack! Smack! A dozen strikes hit my ass now and I try to shift my position. My bottom really stings and fear creeps in about how much pain I will endure. You are physically stronger and I can't make you stop now, even if I wanted the spanking to stop. I have to trust you to push me and give me what I need, but not damage me. This trust. He brought his folding suitcase up the stairs with him. It was the kind that bulged on both sides. In the Air Force we called them B4 bags. I have no idea why. I had seen him move it from his company SUV.From that bag he removed an instrument of some kind. He ran it along the walls. He stopped at the light switch. He held his finger to his lips demanding silence. Funny how all that good, alcohol induced, lightheartedness disappeared. The Brit was all business, and I fell right into it as. More

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