Smack.“Two! Yes, master. I know,” she says.“Tell me, little one.” My hand stinging from the strikes. Smack.“Three. I was misbehaving.”Smac....“How?”“Four.” She moans, wriggling in my lap. “I was playing without permission.”“Playing? With what?”“With my pussy!” She braces herself.Smack!“With what?!” I ask again.“Five!” She winces. “With Master’s pussy.”“That’s right. Kitten needs to ask for Master’s permission before she touches HIS pussy. You understand?”“Yes, sir.”“Good, keep. Wow. He was a man. All man. Dressed in jeans and a white collared shirt, he greeted me with the deepest voice I had ever heard and ushered me through the door. He was 6'4", with salt and pepper hair, and a great beard to match. But most of all, he had these piercing blue eyes that were intoxicating. Looked to be at least 250lbs of MAN. We exchanged niceties and he offered me a glass of wine. I accepted, and then John motioned me towards the couch. I sat down expecting him to initiate. More

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