I bent over and rumbled through my backpack, removing the tennis shoes I had brought. I could hear whispering and noticed that my skirt had ridden up...my body, exposing my panties and ass. “Boys will be boys,” I murmured to myself. I was well aware of their gawking as I remained bent over, putting on my shoes. I liked the attention and plus, I was eye candy.As we walked to the cart station, we got introductions out of the way. They all looked similar - the mid-twenties still muscled frat boy. Our leather cuffs fitted for my wrists and ankles. It was like a laundry list of my most deviant fantasies. A gag looking like a horse bit, the bar made of thick rubber. All of that was forgotten when she produced the last item. A cat o’ nine tails. This was new. Two years ago, I’d begged her to buy one to supplement the crop she normally used on me, but she’d been hesitant, concerned as always that my seeming inability to use my safety word would be my undoing. Nor did the fact that she. More

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