But as he went through each possibility, another realization came forward, he barely remembered his Father. He had seen pictures of him and his parent..., most if not all showed smiling happy faces, even his Mom who he always remembers as being cold.Remembering the pictures seemed to unlock something within him as new memories came flooding back to him. The fun times he had with his Father, playing in the park, his Dad sitting down and playing with him and his toys, helping him make chocolate. " "Glad that I could offer you some help" I replied, a bit suggestively. "I'm about to place my order. Perhaps I could get the little darling another cone?" That would be wonderful" she replied. "Please let me give you some money." Please, no" I responded. "It's only a cone, plus it would be my pleasure to help" as I flashed the biggest smile that I could.I broke the eye contact as I turned to get back in line. As I looked over, "Mom" was standing and cleaning her daughter's little face, yet. Robert Douglas.’ Her eyes got hard, she placed her arms on the table and leaned on them. She waited, almost taunting me to answer her question and daring me to listen to the answer. ‘Do you mind if I ask you your name first?’ Again she shrugged her shoulders. Her answer was one word, and that one word left me wondering who she really was. ‘Traveler.’ The pause in our conversation was made even longer because her food came and she set about it like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. She must also have. Surprisingly, Morgan went to her dresser and produced a leather wrappedpaddle. Both Chris and I stood there as Morgan brought the paddle over."It's your paddle and your outrage. One swat to each cheek please," Isaid.Chris squeaked on each VERY hard swat to her ass. Cum dripped from hercock onto the floor underneath her.I took the paddle from Morgan. "Sister Emanuelle, why do you have apaddle like this?" I asked."For discipline," Morgan replied."Who do you discipline?" I asked."No one now. My.