”“To me, that means he will be home this Friday then, since yesterday was a Friday.”“You are right, it does mean that, but if he doesn’t com... home by eleven o’clock that evening, we can take up where we left off, at three or four thirty, and be ready for him next Friday then, but at the same time, we need to be on the ready, if he just happens to pull into the driveway, from Friday, till whatever Friday, or other day he will be coming in.”“Has he ever come home during the week, since you two. Through her sobs she said, "I'll be alright, but I'd appreciate a ride."I held Sally around her shoulders and drew her close. She continued to sob as we walked to my car. "Sally, please stop crying. You know I hate seeing you cry."As we rode toward home, Sally began to brighten a bit. She had stopped crying and was chatting about things in general. She never liked talking about her tormentors.I turned onto our street and Sally leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Thank you, Billy. I've never. I didn’t say anything, and just looked down at my breakfast as I blushed.This trend continued for every weekend that my father was away (which was often), up till I turned 11. When I turned 11, I started masturbating. Like every mother, she of course knew that I was masturbating, and I discovered porn. As I discovered porn, I realized that the little deposits on my mom’s face came from the various neighbours’ cocks she was sucking in the morning before I came down for the second time that. “Get up.”I slid off the bed and stood up.“Come here.”I skulked over to where he was standing.He wrapped his arm around the front of my waist and landed hard smacks on my arse with his other hand. Continuing, he berated me, “I’ve told you NOT to touch yourself without my permission.”The spanking continued. “What have I told you?”He didn’t let up.“You continue to disrespect me.”Tears welled up in my eyes, partly due to the pain of the spanking but mainly because I got caught. I did know better. I.