He felt the softness and wetness. Better than even her mouth, which was very, very nice. Ding dong. “Mother fucker!” Jon’s curse came just as q...ickly as Sam had jumped out from underneath, threw clothes at Jon and whispered, “In the closet! Hide!” She grabbed her bathroom robe and walked downstairs after hoisting on a random pair of shorts and a tank top. Peeking through a curtain, she saw it was just the FedEx truck leaving behind a box. “Are you fucking kidding me.” Her comment was. Mrs Simons was still too flustered to question how come Miss Curtis knew that was the correct cupboard. She was only thinking about the caning she was about to get. The thing was though that being caned wasn’t the real issue for Mrs Simons. She got caned, and spanked, regularly at home where she lived with her partner, Celia Marsh. They were lovers and had a dom/sub relationship. The immediate concern was that Celia spanked and caned her two or three times a week and Mrs Simons couldn’t. More

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