Now, see that cross against the wall?” I asked pointing at the large wooden St. Andrew’s cross. She nodded. “Take your snivelling mother and str...p her to it, wrists and ankles.”“Yes, Miss.”She turned back and dragged her mother off the bed by her hair. Barely able to stand Gwen struggled to follow her. As Charlotte was busy fastening the leather restraints around her mother’s wrists and ankles I put the lash and paddle back on the hooks in the cupboard. I retrieved my customary riding crop. “And I bet my ass taste better than any other’s.”“It does, Mistress,” I moaned, my pussy clenching in excitement at the naughty thrill of submitting and rimming her even while my stomach twisted in fright.And that fright was strangely exciting. Exhilarating even.“Of course it does. You just love me, don’t you?”“Uh-huh, Mistress. Your ass is so yummy.” I struggled to think of dumb, bimbo things to say. “Just super-duper delicious.”She let out a pleased purr. Nearby, another bimbo—how had this. More

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