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She went to the kitchen to grab a paper towel to wipe up the wetness she had left behind. So much wetness for so short a time. She returned to the kitchen and was about to use the ladle to scoop out stew that had been cooking in the crock-pot all day, when she realized that she hadn’t really cleaned her hand. She wiped her gooey hand and fingers on the edge of a bowl. That would be Steven’s bowl. She couldn’t help but grin. And now that she was returning to her senses, the wetness of her cunt was giving her chills because of the air-conditioning. She wasn’t wearing panties, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think why not. She had planned on the blowjob, and Steven wouldn’t recover fast enough to give her a good fuck. What had she been thinking? She raised her skirt slightly and raked a couple of fingers across her cunt, scooping her fluids. She wiped her fingers on Steven’s bowl. Damn! She was wet. She scooped again, and again, until she was more or less dry. Most of her juices. A lot of people do."She looked him up and down. "Did you really punch him out?" she asked remembering the size of the man."With a little help from one of the nurses who picked just that time to scream hysterically and distract the guy." He fisted his hand again, bringing it to her attention."You should actually ice those knuckles." She sat her cup down and took his hand in hers, missing the startled look in his eyes. "Skins not broken."He turned his hand over in hers and examined her knuckles. "Yours aren't even bruised."She took her hand back, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. "I used the heel of my hand, Doc. Saves on the knuckles." She showed him, stopping the blow mere inches from his face. "Works just as good." Remind me never to piss you off." He picked up a fuzzy gray teddy bear that sat next to her in the chair. Then he looked at her, eyebrow cocked.She grabbed it away from him, the skin that wasn't bruised on her face turning red. "Tell one person that you like teddy.
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He pulls upward and i crawl onto the bed, and i steal a look at His face before He pulls my head down. His face looks grim again. i am laying on my stomach, my feet at the head of the bed, my head resting on the blanket at the foot of the bed, my arms raised over my head, elbows bent, hands near the top of my head. "Legs together" He says.I can hear Him opening and closing a drawer and i don't dare lift my head to see what He has selected. He gives me no time to feel nervous. i can hear the sound the cane makes slicing through the air just a split second before it hits. i jump a little and stifle a scream, trying to restrain myself and be still and not move. Its probably too late to make a difference, but i want him to be proud of me. Again the cane strikes and again my body jerks a little but i try hard to hold still. God it hurts, and i wonder if i will end up bleeding all over the bedspread. There is nothing on earth that would make me use the safeword during this punishment. i.

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