“We can’t let this sort of behaviour go on, Amanda!” he added as he guided her towards the edge of the table.

She had all but abandoned her resistance towards him. There was nothing she could do anyway as he gently but firmly laid her across it, and as she felt the cold leather of the paddle rub against the flesh of her bottom, there was nothing she wanted to do either.

It had been a long a time… a long, lonely time since she had been treated like this. As the first stroke hit her, sending a stinging, searing pain through her, she responded with a “Thank you, Sir.” Never before had it been so well meant.

Amanda cried out with each stroke, thanking him with the utmost sincerity. Tim was a first-rate bastard but he was the bastard she needed. With tears running down her cheeks, he lifted her up and spun her around to face him. Placing his hands on her shoulders he spoke softly to her. “Now you know the rules, don’t you? If I find any wetness down there, it’s the riding crop next!”

As he sank to his knees she already knew what he would find as she felt his hands on her thighs. Tim gently opened out her pussy lips and inspected her. “I think I can see moisture,” he told her.

Suddenly she felt his finger against her, probing and sliding inside her. “Yes, there is wetness here,” he told her.

Suddenly he pulled his finger out and replaced it with his tongue. Amanda cried out and felt her whole body weaken as he probed deeply. Even if she had been dry, he would still probe her with his tongue. There was no way she could stop herself from being aroused, and even when on the rare occasion she managed to hold on, he would insert his finger inside her anus. By then of course, all was lost. The riding crop was an inevitability.

His tongue worked its way deep inside her before being withdrawn to work between her pussy lips and then her clitty. He knew every crevice, every fold of flesh, and none were left untouched by his eager tongue. By the time his finger began probing her anus, she was already screaming out to him to fuck her. As usual, though, he would ignore her and continue his assault on her, driving her to the edge of her limits. How she had missed this. How she had missed the way he brought her climax after climax with his tongue and his fingers.

Amanda was already sobbing with ecstasy when he began pulling guiding her back to the table. “It’s the crop for you my filthy little whore!” he shouted.

She felt the tap of the crop against her. “Yes, Sir, I am.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied before a scream left her lips as he hit her.

The pain was excruciating but she still continued to want more. And more he gave her, two more in fact. As he lay the crop down the excitement grew, knowing what was coming next. She heard the