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“All my comfy clothes are dirty,” she said as she returned his smile. She put a folder on the table next to him. “I sent this off to your Mom this morning and mailed a copy on my way over. I wanted to deliver yours personally. If you’re busy, I can sit somewhere else.”“Just looking over some notes,” Phil said as he put them away. “I have an exam tomorrow. It’s in Practical Business Applications so I want to make sure I do well. Grab a tray and have a seat if you want.”Hailey’s smile widened as she headed over to grab some lunch. Phil couldn’t help but watch her butt as she walked away. He decided it looked just as good in sweatpants and cotton slacks as it did in designer jeans. He pulled his attention away from her backside long enough to open the folder Hailey had put down.“An Open Letter to Beth Warner and her family,” it began.“I began this as a thank you letter to you and your family for allowing me to spend time with you over the weekend. Your son was kind enough to go out of. I lost my control, I carried her to her mattress. There we kissed again, more deeply.She was wearing a kurta, removed that kurta to suck her boobs. She told, “Can’t control, fuck me, fuck me hard”.Even I could not control. I tried untying her salwar’s tie thread, I was not able to, she pushed me back, even she could not, I tore her salwar, which made her so happy. She kissed me back so deeply.She removed my pants, saw my large dick, I took it towards her mouth for a blowjob, she refused. She wanted to boob massage my dick. She held my dick between her boobs massaged it so well, precums made the surface slippery and it was such an experience.Now, we both just wanted to fuck. I sucked her pussy a bit, spit on it to lubricate and just rallied, first took it a little inside. She asked, “Condom?”. I replied, “I don’t have it”.She gave a go ahead with a smile, then with full thrust I took it deep. She shouted, “Aaaahhh”. I just kissed her to quiet her. She said we fucked for next 10.
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There was a strap, a wooden backed hairbrush, and a cane. Joyce looked me in the eye, shook her head, picked up a pad, and read out what Mum had said I had done wrong and finished with the decision I was to be disciplined. It was humiliating to be treated in this way but I knew I had earned it. I supposed even having Joyce discipline satisfied my ‘demand’ not to be spanked by a stranger. Mum probably asked for Joyce specifically. Joyce turned a chair in to the room but didn’t sit down. Instead she picked up the strap, ordered me to stand in front of her and to hold both my hands out palm upwards. I objected to which she responded with, “That’s two extras per hand my girl.” Defeated I held out both hands and she lay the strap on one palm, looked me in the eye, and said sternly, “You know to address me as Miss or Mrs. Campbell.” With that she lifted up the strap and whooshed it down hard on my palm. It stung. Seconds later the strap rested on my other palm and seconds after that that.

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