“And it ended up being the beginning of our living together.” “Indeed it was,” I said. “And tell me … how’s that workin’ out for you?�...� You laughed and bent over to kiss me. “So far, you’re doing pretty good,” you said. After you stood back up I asked, “So if you were thinking about that party and getting aroused, what exactly were you thinking about?” You hesitated a few seconds and said, “I was thinking about how casually you ran your hand up under my dress and while still holding that glass. My hand finished over her right breast and about four inches away as Katrina moved backwards in unison. The practice continued like this for some time. After a few moves I noticed that my fist was becoming closer to her breasts every time. Either I was moving forward too quickly or she was not stepping back as far as she should. Katrina then changed the instructions. “Now, I want you to try and hit me. It will be up to me to get out of the way, ” she nodded to me as she stepped back into her. Fast enough that I can't react to each individual spank. It's just a long, continuous bout of crying. It's not long before the crying and the burning pain are the only realities I have. When he's done with the brush, he'll stand me up, and if the punishment ends there, he'll becon me over to sit on his lap and he'll hold me and rock me while the crying calms down.But sometimes the brush isn't enough. If it's to be a "proper" punishment, he'll stand me up while I'm crying and pull my PJ top up. I have accepted this without regret. Once, in a crowded elevator, your hand brushed my bare arm. You didn’t mean to. I’m not even sure you knew you’d done it. Most certainly you never felt the shiver. Tonight, if you leave the light on above your door, I’ll come inside and find you, but you must promise to sit and wait with your back to the door. If you look at me I will only run away in shame. I must ask you to put on a blindfold, if you would – you can be dressed or not, as you wish, but.