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Art and Bob had brought their favorite paddle along for the occasion.I went over and picked up a chair, one of many against the wall and went up to Bob to place it beside him. She glared at me. “I didn’t say that chair, did I?” Now get the one I want, and you better not be slow about it.” I knew she hadn’t specified any particular chair, however sending me back for another chair further set the stage for my paddling. I ran to the wall and grabbed another chair, then running back to Bob I placed it beside him. “Sorry Master, I’m really sorry.” Throwing in the title of Master was my idea, nothing like adding to a situation. I found out it wasn’t a good idea. Bob reached over and grabbed my ear. “I am not your Master! You have a master, who I’m sure will remind you of that later tonight. You will address me as Mr. Bob. Now get that belt off and undo those pants. You won’t be needing them for a long while, I assure you of that.” I took off my belt while thinking why I just didn’t wear. No comment was made of what had happened, even from Fluff, who as usual left to meet another of her many male lovers. The rest of the evening was spent innocently enough, watching the television, with Amna fully naked except for the grotesque black dildo which dangled awkwardly between her legs and still shimmered from the traces of Fluff’s vaginal orgasm. It was perhaps inevitable that the next time that Dalitha visited her aunt’s flat, it was a different occasion to all those that had come before. Dalitha herself had half-expected it to be different, although she had shied away from any coherent thought of how different it might be. The memory of her close encounter with Fluff’s vagina remained with her, seemed, in fact, to be imprinted on the tips of her fingers where they had touched her. The memory of that droplet of vaginal juice still seemed sticky on her fingers. Her nights were spent in lonely agonised masturbation, not focused on anything specific but bringing her to gasps.
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