The Yia-Yia had suspected for a while that Tessa might be American. If so, that would explain everything. It would explain nothing, but it would also ...xplain everything.Tessa had also brought her a gift. It was an ash tray. The Yia-Yia didn’t smoke, so it was obviously for Tessa’s use when she came to visit, implying that she planned to do so more often. That sentiment was worth it. The ash tray had a picture of that Eiffel Tower-type thing that the Americans have. She’d seen it on television. Yet the spanking is deceitful--its nature is humiliation, not pain, and the humiliation eventually wins. I tried to shut my eyes to keep from seeing the leering faces of the men watching, but the shock of the stinging blows kept making me open them. The small room made everything seem too intimate, somehow more real than the absurd nightmare of the previous evening. It was unbearable for me to picture myself, the daughter of an English lord, being spanked like a naughty c***d. I felt miserable. "I wouldn't have it any other way."II.Over the next few weeks, Bethany did some investigating of her own. According to her sources, the party should be everything Andrew said it would be, and then some. Especially when it came to the 'informal' part. When you're in this social circle, there are only a few occasions each year when you can get together with your friends and really let your hair down. This party was supposed to be one of them. When the really important people let their hair down,. "Look at me," he ordered and when I obeyed, I exploded into another climax. Then, when that was done, he left the device in place. Waves of pain and pleasure washed over me. It wasn't one large orgasm but a series of small tremors. I weakly pulled against my binds. I moved my legs as much as I could. Nothing mattered. My body convulsed again and again. I was shattered. I couldn't fight what he was doing to me; I could only accept. When he used the high setting to stroke me, my voice was weak..