No practice lunges now - the first stroke bit right in and the boy screamed.I knew it was not use to scream and beg for mercy. Miss Priscilla thrived ...n the pain of boys. So he might as well scream his head off. And he did. Cut after cut followed, each delivered with precision. The boys buttocks were soon a mass of livid stripes.And then it happened - a particularly vicious stroke landed square across his balls. He squealed like a pig, and Miss Priscilla gave a little grin. "I'm sorry" she. " I keep looking up at you as I lick and circle your erect nipple and I feel your hand leave the back of my head and cover your own mouth. My fingers are gliding quickly now, thrusting deep and hard. I know you love it like this; you love to have your tight, wet cunt pounded and if my hard cock isn't available I know you love my fingers almost as much. I pull on your nipple with my lips, squeezing firmly as my fingers stab into you. “Cum for me, baby,” I whisper, “right now”. Your hand is. "How do you expect me to wear a..a..dress? No guy would wear a dress in front of other people, let alone a bridesmaid?s dress. I keep telling you, I'm not doing it. Why should I?" he stammered. "I'll tell you why you're going to do it. You've forgotten how I came home early that time and found you in stockings and suspenders, and my best silk knickers with that creep David. God knows why Bob chose him to be his Best Man," she complained.Paul went bright red. "We were just messing around.. Jenni loved to imagine. She had always written stories in her head, even as a child when they had all been about horses and castles and tall, blond princes. She loved the way the story ran away from her when she thought about the men at the store or restaurant, loved the way their imagined caresses became real while she lay naked and alone. Some of them were still princes, in her fantasy. She also liked to imagine other things, though. The strange dark man who took her away from her loving.