She WAS a bad girl. A little bit of pride flickered in her heart. Touching herself wasn't disgusting, it felt good. Really, really good, in fact. Fine... if she was a bad girl, she'd be a Bad Girl. She'd been punished before, many times, and she'd learned that sometimes being Bad was worth the paddle, even the crop. This seemed to be one of those times.She rocked her hand on its heel, pressing at the top, probing at the bottom. Her finger couldn't go in deep enough. Her knees went wobbly, and she. And then she appeared through the crowd. Observing each slow step, the sensual sway of her hips as she confidently glided her way across the bar, with an unerring confidence. My eyes drowned in her beauty, as from beneath her lace mask, those piercing eyes once more captivated and consumed."Excuse me," she interjected with a confident, assured tone that stopped their giggling in their tracks. Leant down beside me, my eyes caught a glimpse of her cleavage beneath her sensational dress, as she. More

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