She gave me a sneering look. "I know she ain't giving you any pie," she gloated. She laughed. "What'cha doing wrong, Robbie? She was all over Joey whe... they were together. But you guys been dating for, what, two weeks? And you still ain't got your wick wet!"I glared at my sister. "Shut up, you little bitch!" I yelled in her face, shaking her.Tina winced, then shouted back, "Fuck you! Let me go!" Fuck me?" I cried. "Fuck you!" I spun my sister around, then shoved her to the floor, onto the big. Vickie and Tasha were two TV sluts that I was once rather fond ofabusing.Lisa said they wished to train me to suck on command as I had done withthem. I had often punished them and made them beg for my cock. Now it wasme that would be begging. How much worse can this get. I was unchainedfrom the floor and bent over the spanking bench. My hands were securedto the front with my ass high in the air. Opening a few quick zips my asswas exposed to the room. Ann started with a cane. 20 strokes on. The kilt was supposed to finish at the knee, but Suzanne’s never seemed to reach that far. Hers was nothing short of a mini-skirt and her blouse, instead of being the chaste garment that it was supposed to be, always seemed stretched, the buttons barely clinging on to the buttonhole and always threatening to fly apart, exposing her bra clad breasts beneath. Suzanne carried the brand, “Trouble”, or “Oh god, not her again?” amongst the staff. Whatever disturbances going on, it was a certainty. “Okay. Go and get dressed and take my advice to dress standing up – do not sit down on the seat.” She said softly.Peter Mitchell turned around. She could see his tear-stained cheeks and he was still letting out the occasional sniff. He walked to the back of the room and began to dress, struggling to replace his socks as he stood. Joanne Wilson walked up to him as he was replacing his jacket and held the white A4 sheet out to him.“You need to take this copy.” She fought the urge to smile at him.
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