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The Big Ass Book of Spanking, Volume Three

By: CF Publications
Published By: CF Publications
Copyright: �2014 by CF Publications �
24 Stories / 127,500 Words
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Sometimes bigger is better. In the case of a book on spanking stories, bigger is always better!

The third volume of The Big Ass Book of Spanking contains almost 350 pages with 24 sexy, butt-burning tales, and delivers with writings from some of CF's most popular and talented authors, including Miss Lee, Chuck, Dr. Dlaniger, Greg Babcock, Rachel Heath, SFG & more.

The stories feature M/F, F/F, F/M so there's something for nearly everyone, and whether you're a fan of paddles, over-the-knee hand spankings or old-fashioned whippings you can be sure something within the pages of this HUGE collection will leave you squirming in your seat.

Stories include:

Stories of Men Spanking Women:

Cat Burglar - Miss Lee
Memorable Experience - M.D.
A Caring Father - Chuck
Kindred Spirits - Elizabeth
Butt Double - Miss Lee
Caught & Spanked - Chuck Wilson
Dormitory Tales, One - Eric Rosemont
The Spoiled Heriess - by RK

Stories of Women Spanking Men:

Collision Made in Heaven - Greg Babcock
Fred Yamashita Feels the Sting - Rachel Heath
Two for the Price of One - Ralph Greco, Jr.
Aunt Mimi's Tradition - RGJ
Choices - Ralph Greco, Jr.
The Burton Hensley Story, Rare Jewel - Rosy B. Goode
The Burton Hensley Story - Obsession, Confession, Absolution - Rosey B. Goode
BMW (A Bottom Made Warm) - Victoria

Stories of Women Spanking Women:

The Student's Harsh Lesson - Felicity
Teaching Them a Lesson - Dr. Dlaniger
Mother Teaches, Daughter-In-Law Learns - Rod Birch
Taught to the Tune - Ed Finn
Peeping Boyfriend - Frank Q.
Silver Lining - SFG
Angela Lends a Hand - Chuck
A Date With the Devil - Mike Burke

Cat Burglar by By Miss Lee

Kenyon Griff checked his watch. 1:28 AM. Time to move. It would take him a little more than 90 seconds to cross the wide expanse of lawn, hugging the gloom of the hedges so as not to be seen. The mansion's alarm system would be turned off at 1:30 AM exactly and stay off for thirty minutes. That meant he had quite a bit of time to search for the goodies. Bless old Mugg for his impeccable timing and knowledge of the latest quirks in security systems. He pulled down the black balaclava, hiding most of his face, and glided from shadow to shadow until he reached the back entrance, a noir figure, powerfully built, yet lithe as a dancer.

He checked his watch again and peered into the window, waiting for the small green light to shine. He then waited ten seconds more before breaking out his lock-picking tools. These old mansions might have state-of-the-art alarm systems, but the locks were often fifty years old and pitifully easy to pick.

Within fifteen more seconds, he was inside, in the back hall. The upstairs bedrooms held what he wanted. A cat could not have been more quiet or quick to climb the stairs. At the top, he ducked around a corner and took a silent breath. The house was supposed to be empty tonight, but he'd better check, just in case. Peering into each room by turn, sliding around curves and turns in the one-hundred-fifty-year-old house, he verified that he was alone.

Kenyon checked his watch again; two minutes had elapsed. Time to find the goodies and get out. He entered the master bedroom suite, heading straight for the enormous walk-in closet filled with satins and silks. Her jewelry would be hidden somewhere in the closet, most likely.

Using his pen-sized flashlight, he didn't have to look far. Shelves in one corner were filled with velvet and satin bags embroidered “VRW”in fancy script. Inside each was either a necklace, bracelet, pin, or ring in 18K gold or in platinum, set with precious stones. Kenyon knew they were real. Morton Willoughby never bought anything less for his wife.

He couldn't resist a snort of disdain. As a thief, he could hardly take the moral high ground. Yet he never could figure out how Victoriana Rose Willoughby managed to keep her husband in the dark about her true activities and nature. Morton Willoughby, a self-made man, worked hard for his money, yet spent much of it on guilt offerings to his wife for being away on business more nights than not. Fool that Morton was, he didn't know his wife played with various fancy men while he flew and met and discussed and worked. It was the talk of the area. Kenyon used to suspect Morton simply didn't care, but after seeing them in public together, any idiot could see that Morton was clearly besotted with Victoriana, and that Victoriana was besotted only with herself.

So tonight Morton was flying home from Zurich, no doubt guilt-ridden for his absence, and she was with her latest lover, boinking herself silly until dawn. Then most likely Vi would pout and fuss to Mort over being left alone, and most likely Mort would immediately call Harry Winston's and order some new, expensive jewels for her.

Kenyon shook his head. What that woman needed was a good bare-assed strapping morning and evening for a month, the kind that left marks and made sitting no longer a casual action. Poor Morton's constant cuckolding by an admittedly breathtaking wife embarrassed every man who knew of it. Actually, it embarrassed most women, too. Victoriana Rose was a spoiled brat who apparently never learned right from wrong and who knew how to wrap her husband around her little finger.

Such thoughts occupied Kenyon's head the entire time he was inspecting the jewelry and choosing the pieces he wanted to steal with care. He figured this haul was good for at least six figures, well worth the two months of planning and coordination and the palms he had to grease for the proper information on the Willoughbys' habits. In fact, this was to be his last job. He was a little long in the tooth for cat burglary, and his last score had to be big to finish funding his retirement. How Kenyon looked forward to a quietlife in his modest winter and summer homes, reading, playing tennis, maybe finally finding a good woman to share it all with him. A woman who would have to be the exact opposite of Mrs. Willoughby, true in word and deed, but who would also allow as to how she needed regular spankings to keep her in line, and to keep both of them in lust. He felt stirrings in his groin and shook his head. This was no time to think of his favorite activity. He was almost done here, so he needed to keep his mind on his work and get out without being caught.

“DAMN IT! FUCKING ASSHOLE ZACK! SHIT!”The loud swearing was almost drowned out by the slamming of what must be the biggest door on the east coast. Kenyon did his own cursing. The spoiled bitch was home. She must have fought with her lover. Now where was he going to hide till he could get out of here? Quickly he decided to duck into Morton's closet. He'd bet Victoriana wouldn't be getting near it. Once she fell asleep, he could sneak out.

Damn! He'd forgotten he only had thirty minutes total till the alarm system reactivated. He stole a glance at his watch as he heard petulant high heels slamming up the marble stairs. Only fourteen minutes left to get out. Was it possible that she might fall asleep in time for him to leave? Maybe he should try for the guest room next door. He was halfway across themaster bedroom when he heard her heels clacking in the hall, heading straight for him. Too late! Kenyon dove into Morton's closet just as Victoriana swept into the room.

The lights blazed and crockery smashed, startling him. He risked a peek. The most unbearably rude, insanely gorgeous brat stood before him dressed like a twenty-dollar 'ho. Her porcelain face and long auburn hair were patrician, but her clothing and body were definitely downtown: shocking pink, low-riding microshorts that showed more than a little cheek, a bright green satin tube top impossibly filled with the most delectable breasts Kenyon had ever seen, and green satin strappy sandals with heels so high it was a wonder she didn't fall down. The heels made her lower back arch and her round, full bottom jut out, making the entire package all the more delicious.

He noted the broken china on the floor, the pouting face, the arrogant toss of her head. She was definitely pissed at that lover of hers.

Suddenly she began to strip, throwing clothing on the floor, only to stomp on them with the heels. Kenyon's cock, rigid since his first glance, began to throb upon seeing her magnificence naked. Shit, no wonder Morton put up with her. Having sex with that would be heaven, regardless of her bad temper and attitude. Unable to help himself, hecaressed himself through his pants as she stood nude before her mirror, hands on hips, 36D breasts, tiny waist, and luxurious hips. The face of an angel atop a body made for sinning.

Her fingers traced her nipples and she sighed with pent-up sexual pleasure. Those same fingers, once they had her nipples erect, moved to the abundant red-gold bush between her thighs. Kenyon rubbed himself harder and gulped as he saw her fingers disappear, rocking in and out rhythmically. They both groaned simultaneously, not hearing the other.

She turned away from him and bent fully over, her legs spread. He could see all of her sex, could even see pink. He had to risk it. When she pulled out the bottom drawer of the wardrobe, he inched his zipper down as softly as he could and pulled out his rock-hard dick.

She lay down on the bed and inserted a large dildo in herself as if it were nothing. Kenyon jerked himself faster, needing to come so he could sneak out of here while she was occupied with getting herself off. Obviously the lover hadn't given hot little Victoriana what she wanted tonight, and she was going to give it to herself. She began moaning loudly and bucking, one hand fucking herself with the dildo, the other moving back and forth between nipples and clit. He bit his tongue as he came in a huge rush. The best jerkoff session he'd hadin years, a little bonus on top of his retirement score. After a quick wipe with some nearby tissues, he didn't bother to put himself back in his pants, but instead crept quickly along the floor, praying that Victoriana's hungry cunt would keep her occupied.

He made it to the other side of the chaise longue near the door. If he could only slip out quickly now; less than four minutes remained. He peeked to see the redhead heaving on her bed. Now was the time. He began a quick creep the final five feet, knowing he would be in the open, knowing he had to take the risk to leave with his booty.

“Hey, YOU! What the hell are you doing here?”The bedroom door slammed and locked in front of him as if haunted. The hair stood up on the back of Kenyon's neck. Oh, shit. Nothing to do but turn and face her. At least she couldn't see his face; he still had his balaclava on.

And he still had his dick hanging out of his pants. Double shit. He met her eyes and noted the remote control in her hand. Interesting gizmo, to cause a door to slam and lock from twenty feet away.

“Crap, you're not hard either. That makes two men tonight I've seen who can't get it up.”She continued working the dildo in and out, eyeing him. Well over six feet tall, shoulders any man would kill for, narrow waistand hips, and a piece of male equipment that, even limp, was the biggest she'd seen. Though it was becoming less limp by the second.

Kenyon glanced down at his now-raging erection in dismay. It was his damn cock that had gotten him into this mess. He should have tried to sneak out earlier rather than satisfy himself first. He looked up, knowing he'd probably go to jail, and miserable about it. But as he caught her eye, he realized she wasn't the least bit upset or frightened. In fact, she looked downright predatory. She smiled, not a nice smile, and crooked a finger at him.

“C'mon over here and give me some of your love meat, boy. Mama's hungry.”She popped out the dildo and spread herself wide for him. “It won't bite you. Come stuff me, honey, with the biggest sausage I've ever seen, and God knows I've seen way more than my fair share.”

Kenyon's jaw dropped. “I'm an intruder, and you want me to fuck you?”

“Hey, he's not too stupid. Yeah, I want you to fuck me, dumbass. Think I sit around with my juicy twat hanging out just to feel the breeze? Zack wasn't able to manage it tonight, the incompetent asshole. But your equipment looks ready for action. Hey, you want to do me from behind? I prefer to be on top but tonight I've gota nasty itch to scratch, so I'm not gonna be too picky.”With that, she turned and waved her ass at him lasciviously. “Ram it up me already, and don't be gentle about it.”

“Don't you even care I've just stolen thousands of dollars of jewels from you?”He could not resist blurting that out, incredulous as he was.

“What the hell do I care? Morty gets me all that stuff that I couldn't give a shit about. He's not here to give me his high hard one every night because he's so busy working. So how about you pound the daylights out of me instead, bub?”She fingered herself, then spread her nether lips as far as they would go, humping her crude invitation.

Kenyon suddenly realized he was furious. What a nasty woman she was! Willing to fuck any dick she saw, and in her marital bed! And her callous, unfeeling attitude towards a man who obviously worshiped her! Bitch! But her position gave him an idea. He was already screwed for getting out of the house on time, so he might as well have some fun. He sauntered over and trailed his fingers across her silky bottom. She moaned and demanded satisfaction, using good old four-letter Anglo-Saxon words, as a plan formed in his mind. Groaning inwardly with unsatisfied lust, he fingered her vigorously, in, out, and down around her clit, in circles that drove her wild.

“Ah, darling, I really do want to... take you from behind, but it would be better if you stood and leaned over that chair in your heels. Would you mind being a sweetie and position yourself so that I can ram you most forcefully?”

“Now you're talking!”She jumped up and eagerly draped herself over the chair's back, bumping and grinding with excitement. “Fuck me now, dammit! Shove it up me as hard as you can!”

“I like it pretty rough.”Kenyon had his eye on a few things he'd noticed in Morton's closet.

“I adore it rough. Bang me, damn you!”Kenyon continued to finger her and the ripe smell of sex rose to his nostrils. His member pulsed, and he had a moment of insane desire to slam into her so forcefully her eyes would bulge. He touched himself once, with regret.

“Do you mind if I use a few of your silk scarves to, um, secure you? I'd hate to knock you off balance with my powerful thrusting.”Damn, he had to touch himself one more time. How had he become so hard so soon after his first orgasm? This one tempted him like no other woman ever had before.

“Hell, yes, tie me up, tie me down, a little bondage only increases the fun. C'mon, make me scream.”

Oh, I'll make you scream all right, he thought with satisfaction as he hustled to secure her hands and feet. Once she was restrained, his manner changed.

“You, young lady, are going to get the hiding of a lifetime before I leave here tonight.”

“Oh, a little hanky-spanky is always fun. That's fine, too.”

“'Hanky-spanky' is a far cry from what you're going to get.”He bent over and lifted her head so that their eyes met. “I'm going to wallop you for your crude language, your careless adultery, and your general lack of consideration for others.”

“I don't think so, asshole. All I have to do is press 911 on that remote and your ass is grass.”Victoriana jerked and swore as she remembered she was securely tied. Just to be safe, Kenyon opened the window and threw the remote out, but not before making sure that the door was unlocked for his eventual escape.

“Now, I believe we have a spanking on the agenda?”

“Fuck you, creep!”Her face was scarlet with anger, but not as scarlet as her fanny was going to be within an hour, he promised himself.

“It seems that's exactly what you wanted me to do, just momentsago.”

“Yeah, well, if you do it now, I'll make sure to call the cops and charge you with rape. DNA, you know. You're nothing but a common criminal, so I'll bet they find you.”

“On the contrary, I have never been arrested for anything, so I'm not worried about DNA evidence. And I have absolutely no intention of getting my cock within a foot of your cunt.”Brave words, he thought to himself, eyeing her juicy entrance with intense regret. “God knows where it's been, and I'm rather picky about whom � and what - I plunge into.”With that, he inserted himself back in his pants, and zipped up, too close to a second orgasm to risk leaving it out, ready as anything. Now there was no chance he'd change his mind once he had turned her behind a burning red, tempting him to perform a mindless act of wanton passion. Though God knew he'd leave the jewels he'd taken behind if he could fuck her up her magnificent ass just one time. He had no doubt she'd love every minute of it, too, even though she'd not offered that hole to him.

He heard her call him names he'd not heard even in the locker room and shrugged. What mattered now were her punishment, and the nice long note he'd leave for her husband afterwards. He vanished into Morton's closet, only to emerge with a thick, wide leather belt and a large woodenhairbrush.

“You don't intend to use THOSE on me, do you?”Victoriana's voice rose in pitch with worry, and Kenyon enjoyed the sight of her bottom squeezing tightly in fear.

“Indeed I do. First, though, I'll take these gloves off to give you the hand spanking of a lifetime. I'm sure you'll want to rub yourself later, so I'm not too worried about fingerprints.”

“If they can lift fingerprints off my ass, I swear I won't touch myself till the police get here!”She tossed her auburn hair regally and tried to stamp her heeled feet, without success. He grinned at her hubris.

“Let me guess, darling. You've never been spanked, ever, have you?”

“Well, of course not! My parents were civilized, and Morty wouldn't dare.”

He laughed aloud. “I am going to enjoy this more than the money I'll make from tonight's take. Giving such a bratty bitch her first spanking ever! Have you got a lot to learn. You won't be able to keep from rubbing your bottom frantically by the time I am done with you! Not that I'll allow you to, of course.”He took a moment to enjoy the sight of her milky-white, heart-shaped bottom, bouncing with each of her struggles.

The latex gloves came off with loud snaps, so great was his eagerness to begin. Placing his left hand on the small of her back, he brought the right one back, then forward with all his might. He was going to ensure that she felt every blow keenly. Her behind compressed, whitening, then filled with an angry red. Each finger could be seen clearly in the handprint on her bottom.

Victoriana screamed, then cursed him. Kenyon smiled and landed a second hand spank as vigorously as he could on her opposite cheek, once again leaving an angry handprint, complete with fingers.

“You fucking son-”She babbled her curses nonstop. He did not care. Spanking this one satisfied both libido and soul. He was practically performing a public service. Kenyon settled into a routine: CRACK! went his hand. SHRIEK! went her mouth. They continued in this fashion for at least thirty of the hardest whacks his hand could deliver. Finally, his palm throbbing with the extreme effort, and his ears tired of her yelling and cursing, he formed a makeshift gag with her panties and one of her scarves.

Her eyes bulged and she looked as if she was about to pass out from sheer fury. “MPPH! PHKKK! OOMMM!”

Kenyon sighed. “That's muchbetter. I was a bit tired of your shrewish voice.”

Victoriana continued fussing behind her gag until she noticed Kenyon was taking practice swings with the belt. He had doubled it and was swinging it swiftly, so that it made a whistling noise.

He noticed that she had stilled, and made no noise whatsoever. Her eyes were large and apprehensive.

“Yes, sweetie, I'm going to use this on your backside, and yes, it is going to hurt. Do you understand why I am doing this?”

Her eyes showing white all around, she shook her head. Kenyon thought he heard a whimper.

“Bad girls get their fannies whacked till they can't sit down. And you, my dear, for cheating so flagrantly on a man who loves you, for your potty mouth, for your bitchy personality, are going to remember this spanking a long time.

“I also plan to leave a nice long letter for your husband, explaining what I did, how he can replicate it, and why he should. If you were my wife, you'd be caned twice a day till you sweetened your behavior. I have no doubt that sitting on a few wheals would turn you around in rather short order.”

She began to struggle in earnest as he approached her. Once again he placed his hand on her back, but this time firmly, to keep her from tipping the chair over with her frantic struggles. He measured the belt against the sitting area of her bottom. Almost two inches wide, thick and heavy, and doubled to boot: it would be more like a razor strop than a belt. Most satisfying for him, most painful for her.

Kenyon drew back the doubled belt and let it fly. The muffled SPLOT! sounded wimpy, but he knew the blow had been anything but. Victoriana jerked up her head, straining, whining behind the gag at top volume.

The dark red stripe across her sitting area pleased him. He decided she needed quite a few more. Methodically he walloped her five times with the heavy leather belt, painting red stripes up and down her backside and on her upper thighs. He thrilled to see her behind clench with each blow, her head jerking up. After a second the burning stripe would fill in and darken, and her buttocks would flare out as they released, and she would finally feel the full agony of the band of crimson, and scream behind her gag.

Kenyon moved to the front of the chair to take a look at her face. Tears glimmered but did not fall from those bewitching green eyes, which still looked more angry than repentant.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?”

Slowly, she nodded. He decided to risk removing the gag. He was rewarded with a gob of spittle, square in his left eye. “Take THAT, asshole!”

Calmly he wiped it off with her panties, then gagged her again. “For that little outburst, you are going to pay. Oh, how you are going to pay.”

His cock felt like a chunk of granite in his pants. He looked longingly at her creamy, full breasts, tipped with diamond like points of desire. Unable to restrain himself, he cupped each breast, which filled his large hands completely. He saw her eyes shut, lust clearly on her face. Watching her, he used his thumbs to brush the tips, first lightly, then firmly. Her mouth, though gagged, was clearly hanging open, and her hips were rolling.

Then he pinched each nipple, pulled, twisted. Victoriana's breath erupted in small, hard snorts as she vainly attempted to satisfy herself, fucking air.

He remembered the spittle. He pulled and twisted harder. Her eyes flew open, surprised. Apparently, he had found her limits in this area. Crushing and wrenching each swollen tip mercilessly, he watched her eyes fill again with tears even as her pelvis continued to grind.

He let her aching nipples drop and picked up the doubled belt. Spreading her cheeks apart with his left hand, he belted her sharply. He caught her sweet spot, where ass and thigh join. He knew he had stung her labia from the wetness left on the belt and the redness across her bottom's skin from left to right, the redness that did not stop when it reached the tender central area he had exposed so cruelly.

Victoriana's legs had gone rigid. Her back was arched and she was impossibly on tiptoe. He could hear her moaning and chuffing air through her nostrils.

Then, amazingly, she rolled her hips slowly, repeatedly. Keeping her spread, he whacked her again. Again she moaned, again it was clear the blow burned terribly, yet, incredibly, it turned her on.

Oh, God, Kenyon mused, how I want to fuck this one. Angry that he should not, he spread her cheeks as wide as he could and used the belt to produce little welts of agony on the tender inner surfaces, from hungry cunt up past her little rosebud, all the way to the top of her crack. Her struggles were mighty but he managed. The sniffing he heard meant he had finally gotten tears out of the bitch. Angry again that he should not risk taking this one, no matter how much she clearly wanted to be taken, he cracked her bottom as hard as hecould until her sitting area was a darker red than above or below it. He stood back, watching her try to shake the smarting our of her fanny, first slightly squatting, then shaking one leg, then the other, straining her hands and legs against the bonds. He'd bet she'd give her right tit to rub her swollen seat now.

Though he thought better of it, he removed her gag again. As their eyes locked, he pinched her nipples pitilessly, watching the tears continue to flow.

“No spitting now, eh?”

“Oh, please, please, you're hurting my nipples, but that pain pales next to my ass. Please, I beg you, let me rub my butt, or rub it for me. It burns, it throbs, it aches. Does a spanking hurt this much always?”Her voice shook, her pretty speech ending with a choked sob. “How does it look? It feels, well, sort of broken.”

“You're good and red, a deep red, but I haven't bruised you at all.”

“You didn't break my little bottom?”He heard the tease in her voice through her tears. Walking back to her rear, he lightly stroked up and down the crease, from the top of her backside to just short of her hungry opening.

“Ahhhh. It burns between my cheeks so badly. Thank you.”Kenyonlet his fingertips play across the sorest-looking areas of her behind. Her wordless sighs became coos as her hips began their grind. He spread her again and spanked her fiercely square in the center, but this time with his hand. His palm came away drenched as she cried out, her genitals clearly stinging harshly; she squeezed her thighs together and rubbed, wanting to ease both the painful burn and the desire. “Please,”she gasped, “Can you do that a few more times?”

“Aha. You like it.”Kenyon's voice held surprise and pleasure.

“Yes. No. Well, I'd really rather you fucked me, but if spanking is the only way I can get the strokes I need, then spank me there, on my � you know.”

“I'll finish your real spanking first, then we'll discuss your relief � possibly.”

“More spanking?”Victoriana began to cry real tears once again.

“Yes, my dear, it's time to try the hairbrush. Count, please.”

“Count?”

“The blows. Count each one. One, two...”

“Oh! People do that?”

He ignored her imperiousquestion and swung the brush sharply, making delicious contact with the fullest part of her backside.

CRACK! “EE! I mean, one!”

“Very good.”SMACK!

“YII! TWO!”

Kenyon, delighted to see the hard maple kiss her cheeks harshly, leaving dark red ovals as her fanny bounced with each blow, noticed the way she pushed her bottom out to meet each blow, despite the burn, despite her tears. The spanking, clearly arousing her, also just as clearly hurt like holy hell.

WHACK! “THREE!”

CRACK! “FU, FOUR!”

CRAAACKK! “SHIT! FIVE!”

On they went to twenty, heat pouring off the surface of her fanny as he painted it with pain. She kept perfect count; he was impressed. Her lovely backside was solid red from the crest of her full cheeks to halfway down her thighs, with an extra-red area in the sweet spot. Kenyon couldn't resist smacking her there, knowing it was bringing her closer to climax. Her bottom was clenching and she was shaking it from side to side mindlessly, desperate to ease the fire that raged.

SMAACKK! WHAACKK! He gave her his best shot twice, quickly, once on each globe, as hard as he could. Her back arched, curses flew from her mouth, and she forgot to count. Her poor little behind clenched and unclenched, clenched and unclenched.

“Shall we try that again?”

“Wha, what?”she sobbed, slowly shaking her bound legs fruitlessly, trying to ease the intense burning in her fanny.

“You didn't count.”

“Oh, FUCK!!!”she wailed.

CRACK! CRACK! Mercilessly Kenyon repeated his previous two blows. Somehow Victoriana choked out “NINETEEN, TWENTY!”and collapsed, wailing loudly.

He wiped down the hairbrush and belt, erasing fingerprints, laying them on the dresser. He replaced his latex gloves. Finding paper and a pen in a nearby desk, he hummed to himself as he thought about the things Morton would need to know.

After a few moments, she noticed him standing at the high dresser. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving your good husband a note. As I said before, he needs to know what I did, why I did it, and howto do it to you himself. I was serious when I said that you needed a good caning at least once a day. Bad behavior is never cured with only one spanking, harsh though it may be. Does he have a paddle or cane from his school days?”

Her sharp intake of breath made him chuckle. “Ah, I see that he does, if your gasp is any indication.”

“Oooo, he has both, and they look vicious! Morty told me tales of what they did to pledges, and I wouldn't like my ass to take such punishment. Please, don't tell him to use them on me!”

“Are you still horny?”

“Hell, yes, mister. Why?”

“If you want satisfaction, you'll do it my way, but I guarantee you will like it. But only my way, and only if I can tell your husband to use both the paddle and the cane on you on a daily basis, at least for the first few weeks.

“FEW WEEKS? DAILY?”

Kenyon scribbled a bit. “Actually, I was thinking of him using one in the morning, one at night, and the b

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