And at tomorrow’s meeting he wanted us to select a chairperson for the group.The meeting began to break up and Fletcher left the room, giving Denise...and me a “thumbs-up” sign and a wry grin as he went through the door. I slipped on my kimono while a number of kids surrounded us asking all kinds of questions—about stuff they had heard about the Monday morning Program intro in Fletcher’s office where Denise and I had invented the Program greeting to wild rumors of crazy sex acts during relief. Oh yes, and she was now Sharon again. She felt awkward as she walked. It wasn’t the school dress or the strange looks she got from people she passed by; far from it. It was in fact the realisation that had hit her an hour ago. Earlier that day she had willingly been spanked and caned by a nineteen-year-old who she used to teach at school. Part way through the teenager had given her an orgasm. Afterwards they made out. It wasn’t so hard to understand given the adrenalin factor. What was. I had been hoping to be spending the holidays at home with my friends, going to my best friend Alison's Christmas party and hopefully manage to get Kyle Miller to fuck me senseless. But no, my dearest daddy had other plans for me. Ever since he had found me on our living room couch two years ago with Lance Gordon's hand in my panties and his lips around my nipple he had made it a point to keep me away from anything male that was not related to me. Going even as far as sending me to a catholic. Somehow, he was using her guilt and shame to heighten the sexual intensity of the moment. It was dark and scary that she could respond to that. And scarier still how much she was loving it. ‘You can’t wait for me to tell you, can you?’ Greg asked, his voice low and husky. ‘Look how hard your nipples are,’ he squeezed her again, ‘just thinking about it.’ The pinch wasn’t hard, but it was enough to send a bolt of lightning through her, force a short, sharp cry from her lips. ‘How wet is your.