He got to ten before he asked again “How many slut?”“Ten” I answered confidently.“And what do you say, slut?”“Thank you Danny” I whimp...red.The next ten were harder and I was getting really uncomfortable, starting to get scared. I was squirming. He stopped to ask “How many?”“Twenty, thank you Danny”“Good. I don’t want you to move an inch. These next swats are going to be hard and if you move I swear I’ll start over, do you understand?”I groaned inwardly, my heart racing “Yes Danny” I braced. I felt a stirring in my loins and was immediately annoyed at myself for responding the way her wily mother had predicted men would.She watched my appraisal of her before asking, 'why do men like looking at my legs?'It was an easy question to answer honestly, a difficult one to respond to otherwise. After a moments hesitation I answered honestly.'Men like to look at pretty girls' legs.''But why? I can understand men looking at a woman's boobs because they don't have any, but men have legs so. But despite that, King Arthur III shouldn't forget about the always upcoming visenians, the brave and brutal north humans that live in the other end of the Chill Sea, whom continously invade Drakarya in the search of resources but also in retaliation for the visenian defeat at the Redcrest Battle.The elves also have some storm coming over them: Cenerond, the dethroned elvish king that worship Mórëer, the god of darkness, and now leads the dark elves, wants to unite all the elves under his. A light squeeze sent darts of mingled pain and pleasure coursing through my body, and I knew he had the power to crush me to death in his powerful arms, if he so desired.Soon we were at the hotel. As soon as we entered the suite, he lifted me in his arms and kissed me. I bent down and pressed my mouth against his hard lips, kissing him sensuously. My full, sweet lips feathering across his. I was soon in bed, reclining on the white sheets and gazing at him with voluptuous periwinkle blue eyes..