"Don't you dare move!"She felt him raise her skirt, his hand rubbing her buttocks through thesilk knickers. She felt his hard cock push into her stoma...h."Who pays for this lovely underwear?"Slap"You do."SlapThese were not play slap this was a real spanking, she started to sob."Who makes all the discussions?"Slap"Y-you do."Slap"How wears the pants?"Slap"You wear the p-pants."Slap"What do you wear?"He paused waiting for her answer."I wear f-frilly knickers, panties." So who is in charge? Who is. Perhaps I was just getting grumpy being on my own after having lived with my friends for the past couple of years? The Loftus’s were nice enough, but they weren’t my age, and we didn’t have a great deal in common.I went home the weekend after my 22nd birthday on 17th March to see my folks; Dad had suffered from a filthy cold for a while, which Mum then caught, and they of course were fed up because they didn’t dare risk passing it on to their parents, who were complaining at not being. More

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