Her eyes were closed, but she could see her fantasy clearly: her hands running over Ashleigh’s smooth, soft flesh, kneading and groping at her prett... white mounds; and then Molly raised her hand up high, and brought it down, hard, on Ashleigh’s cheek, and the girl squirmed beneath her, crying, Please, Mommy, stop! It hurts…! but she kept going, smack!, spanking her naughty little girl, because the filthy slut needed to be punished; smack!, and her skin was red and agitated, and Molly leaned. So I wrote her a story. And this is what happened.I booked into Prestonfield House, a very beautiful, and wildly expensive hotel in Edinburgh, and made sure that not only had they put a bottle of chilled champagne on ice in the room, but I'd paid them to get their florist, Maxwell Flowers, to make a beautiful arrangement of flowers in the room too. The blooms were perfect, just emerging, and their scent filled the suite with their erotic charge.I'd also arranged with the staff that we would. More

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