" Iflashed her my most reassuring smile.Jerry looked back and forth between us before jumping in again. "Yes-yesmy dear. Don't worry; my colleague and...I were just discussing somefaculty matters. We can have our meeting right away. Have a seat." Hegestured to the chair directly in front of his seat. As the young woman walked over to the chair, I rose from mine and headedtoward the office door, making sure to check out the glorious shape ofher tight little rear-end straining against her jeans;. She loved the strap, the leather smell and the way it felt against her skin. “Who owns you, pet?”“You do, Sir.”Crack.She gasped, the blood rushing back into her bottom, the pain white hot in her eyes. She would never make twelve. And she would never not make twelve; she would not fail him.“Who owns your clit? Who decides when you get to touch it?”“You do, Sir. You own my clit.”Crack.He wasn’t hitting hard, but it wasn’t soft, either. After the strap last night, and 30 with the paddle, a. More

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