Spying My Cousin Bhabhi
He was totally naked, bent over a heavy punishment structure, and bound securely in place. His wrists were cuffed to the front legs of the structure. A wide leather strap encircled his waist, completely restricting evasive movement of his upper body. His ankles were cuffed to the rear legs of the structure. And, of course, he was acutely aware that his bare bottom was exactly where the punishment mistress wanted it. He was also aware that he was going to endure a severe strapping, whether he wanted to or not, and that there was nothing that he could do to interfere. He had never been punished before at the institution for probation violators. Punishment was not meted out on a whim. He had accumulated several demerits, however, during the week for rule violations. He cursed his own hubris, his overconfidence that he could get away with breaking multiple rules without consequence. Hell, he told himself, that's why I'm at this place to begin with - I thought that I could get away with. Their conversation was quiet, giving very little information about themselves. They responded to a remark from someone else down the bar or an item on the local newscast. He laughed at her wit and she smiled at his complaints about the city’s failure to repair pot holes in the streets. Before they finished their second drinks, Tinker stood and turned Beth’s stool. ‘Come dance with me.’ His words were less an invitation and more a demand than his previous offer. They moved to the dance floor, both absorbed with their own thoughts. Tinker maneuvered them to the darker corner of the dance floor, put his hand under her chin, and raised her face. When he kissed her she responded, then rested her forehead against his shoulder. ‘Is that what you wanted?’ He asked against the side of her face, breathing in the fragrance of her. He didn’t need to tell her, she could feel the beginning of his erection pressing against her. ‘I don’t know,’ she responded as she pressed her breasts against him a.
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