“I’ll take my punishment, Candice.”
“Good boy.”
SMACK! She hit my ass with the riding crop. Again and again and again.
“You’re a miserable piece of shit, do you know that?” SMACK!
“Yes—Ouch!—Candice.”
“You want to fuck me don’t you?”
“No, I love my wife!”
“STOP LYING TO ME!” Candice really wound up and hit me as hard as she could. “You want to fuck me don’t you?”
“YES. Okay? I want to fuck you—owowow!” She hit me three or four times.
“PERVERT!” SMACK! “I bet you think about me when you fuck my sister, don’t you?” SMACK!
“Yes. I think about your big titties while I fuck my wife. I’m sorry!”
“You’re sick, do you know that?” She grabbed my hair and slapped my face a few times. “Really sick. Not just the wanting me while you fuck my sister,” SLAPSLAP, “But enjoying this as much as you do. Really fucking sick.” She slammed my face into the table as punctuation.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sososorry!” I started to cry. It was just too much.
“You’re a sick fuck, aren’t you?” SMACK with the crop again.
“Imasickfuck” I bawled.
“You aren’t going to stare at me anymore are you?” SMACK again.
“No, I won’t.”
“And you’ll start giving my sister the attention she deserves, won’t you?” SMACK
“Yes, I promise.”
“Good boy . . . but we aren't done yet!”
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