I threw on a brown silk blouse and a black skirt that falls just above my knees. Underneath the blouse, I wore a black push-up bra that pushes my tits...even higher and feeling adventurous that day, I decided not to wear any panties.I looked at myself one last time in the full-length mirror in the hotel room, smiling at the image I saw, threw on my trench coat and hit the street.It was a Thursday afternoon; the metro was filled with working people from all over the city. I seldom take any train. On the leather was embossed, ?Honey’s Stinger.? After that, whenever the balls were being racked, she would wave her little paddle and taunt us with, ?OK, whose next to get their ass whipped??Then came ?that Friday night.? Anyone who knew the story just referred to it as ?that Friday night.? Everything started as usual and went as usual. Honey played like a pro, flashed her panties like a tease, and was ready to leave with all the money. She looked around the room at each of us and asked,. More

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