There was another pub about two hundred yards up the road, and the remaining fourteen men walked swiftly to it. Normally they wouldn’t have been see... dead here, too posh: very much a ‘white collar’ pub. The patrons of this pub were all preparing to leave.“We’re closing,” they were told.One man looked at his watch. “Still got ten minutes. And we’ve just duffed up the patrol that tried to kick us out of The Nags Head.”“So now you want to come and cause us trouble instead,” the barmaid asked. ..were you serious about the drink?" "God no, but there are a few pubs and clubs that I could take you, but we'd have to go to London or a big city for that...anyway, you have written about them, so you know what clubs I'm on about." "You, you've got...your hand, on my...ass." "Didn't I do that in your fantasy when I walked you down to the pub?" "Yes...but..." I don't know why but I haven't stopped him touching me. Well I do know why, but I'm just finding myself rather confused at the moment.. To me it seemed asimple, but incredibly powerful gesture of submission. ?Turn around.? She obeyed immediately.?Lift your dress so that I can see what a bottom looks like that isabout to be spanked.? Betty audibly sighed, and obeyed my command. She was wearing simplewhite nylon panties with ?I am a naughty girl? embroidered across the back.Nice touch, I thought to myself, and could not help smiling. Her buttocks werefirm and inviting. She may have put on a couple of pounds, but if anything. " No," she squealed, pulling free. The highwayman tossed her skirt up on her lap, yanked her knees apart and gaped at the foul matter oozing from the girl's light-haired crotch. Her cunny was already red and swollen and the viscous goo flowing from it was a greenish-brown and had left stains on the inside of her white thighs. "Shit," he said, "that's enough to make a man puke." You'd do better poking a goat," I said, pulling the girl's skirt back in place and patting her gently. She covered her.