..” he started, but I cut him off. “Shh, shh, shh...” I shushed him. He went silent and I kept my attention on his growing member in my hand. As I stroked, it grew and grew. At one point, I remember thinking that it could not possibly get larger, but it was not even rock hard yet. By the time it was, it was easily the length of my forearm and thick as could be. Imagine an empty paper towel roll hanging between a man’s legs. That’s what I was dealing with. While this was happening, I was keeping an ear out for any noises coming from upstairs. At this point, Erin probably assumed that Tony had left and that I was asleep in my room, but I was still worried she might come back down stairs. “Listen for any noises from upstairs, okay? We can’t afford to get caught.” I told Tony. He just nodded his head that he understood. In any case, my mind was made up. I was back in the slutty days of my youth. I had never seen anything like this and I was on autopilot. I squatted down and took him. The gimp wailed like a girl as the woman that owned him cut the air and then his backside again and again with clinical perfection. The other women jeered and made spiteful comments as he tensed and wailed in agony. He was reduced to tears within the first ten strokes, such was the ferocity of the punishment; the headmistress showed her prowess with the cane exquisitely, and the other women marvelled enviously at her technique. As the vicious rattan rained down on his cut and bleeding cheeks, the tears flowed and the gimp squirmed in glorious submissive humiliation. His cock rubbed exquisitely between the padding and his belly as he felt the venom of the dominant woman's cane. The pain became pleasurable, and the jeers of the women increased as he tensed against his bonds in complete submission to their superiority; they knew he was to disgrace himself. Arabella increased her rate of stokes as she too noted the coming of his absolute surrender, her pussy now dripping with excitement..
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