Whacked Round Ass Lass 5 Whipped Reporter Anal Lost Chapter 3
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* Whacked Round Ass Lass* (5) *Whipped Reporter Anal Lost*Chapter 8 free porn video
Only her panties separated his hand from her skin and Bart knew in polite society he was in dangerous territory, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves. So, lets start from the beginning.
“Look, CK that lady is whacked!”
“Really, maybe you are the one who needs to be whacked!” CK Delhi stated.
These were the utterances of one Charlotta King High’s talkative flag girl who just happened to have the best bottom in school. And, when she wore the tight red short-shorts as she was now just, ahead of him, he could see her visible panty line of the band color-guard member. CK took in her tall stature of the blonde in her white ankle boots each with large oversized red pom-poms across the laces.
Mr. Delhi or as he preferred to be called, CK by the girls was the Competition Director for the color guard part of the band. Such was the life and responsibilities which he supplemented with full-loads booked by his broker and driven up, down around I-95 where an independent, over the road/trucker could make a bundle.
Huh, all I said was I could see her visible panty line!
“Really Charlotta, because of your War on Women insensitive comment he wants you to be punished by having you suspended for a week.”
“Wow, I didn’t realize it was that a big deal.”
“Here’s your problem Charlotta, you can be assured BarbaraAnn will go to Principal Edwina and you know with that bitch your ass in charge now your ass will be grass!”
“I was kidding around with BarbaraAnn I don’t think he has a fat ass. Is that what he thinks I meant? “I don’t think that would be the right approach to ask why he has a visible panty line”
“Yeah I guess your right that would just add fuel to the fire.”
“Besides girl, you will miss a week of competition rehearsals and because Nationals start next Saturday technically you would not be back at school until that following Monday and would be left behind.”
“How about if you punished me instead could you sell BarbaraAnn on not going to Principal... ?”
“Ah what the hell I will see if I can smooth her tail feathers.”
“Thanks tell her I will do gut busters, suicide drills until I cramp and nearly up-chuck that ought to be enough of a punishing, super physical punishment to satisfy BarbaraAnn.”
“Alright Charlotta you are an important part of the performance team, not only your voice but trying to re-choreograph for the hole on stage your absence would cause. Now that would be a pain in the ass for me.”
Mr. Dehli turned weekend gear shifter and her apprentice Charlotta took off to deliver a load to Smith Lake which was near Martinsville. Later at ate back of the freight yard out of ear range Charlotta’ teacher ordered him into the back of the sleeper cab and to get on all fours on the bed. Took the ping-pong paddle and runs her fingers along its length. There was a fair degree of turmoil on using this in an effective manner and this could only be achieved without last damage if the paddling was taken on the bare bottom. So, before they got started Charlotta’ teacher approached him on her fours on the sleeper bed and yank down her jeans and then to Charlotta’s protest her tight white underpants were pulled down baring the field of action.
“One.” she whimpered, flinching, tensing, and waiting for the first swat to fall.
“Ouchie, One,” Charlotta, bleated.
Charlotta was in for a serious ass paddling as CK barely had time to register the whooshing sound of the paddle travelling through the air when a hard, white hot pain exploded over her ass-cheeks. The loud crack of wood slammed into her flesh ringing in her ears. He gasped as her body slid forward on the truck sleeper bed from the force of the swat, unable on her fours to stop her forward motion with her hands He managed to keep her knees from buckling, and asked for the second swat.
Another loud crack and Charlotta cried out, unable to stop a moan from escaping her tightly closed lips. He slid forward again across the truck cab bunk.
Choked out verbally, Charlotta made her response. It was necessary to keep the swats coming as fast as possible, it hurt less that way, perhaps only because her teacher turned weekend drive master had less time to aim, less time to gather her strength. The paddle slammed into her reddened, bruised bottom cheeks and Charlotta vocalized her pain letting loose with a high-pitched girlish scream that pleased the trucker. The back of the eighteen-year olds legs trembling while her red ass jiggled in a tremor of new fright knees as her chorus girl knees buckled from the force of the ping-pong paddle swat Charlotta now was filled with dread as her bottom went from red to purple.
The former star quarterback’ girlfriend wailed, recovering her balance just as the paddle made contact, sending him to her knees, as he slid backward off the desk. Charlotta shrieked like a girl, unable to stop the flow of tears unleashed by the pain coursing through her ass.
Mr. Delhi waited patiently, unblinking, as Charlotta slowly staggered to her feet. He re-arranged the bedspread and shakily lay back down over the mattress. Mr. Dehli expertly eyed her handiwork. The purple blotches rising on the blonde flag girl’s ass were a testament to Matthew’s years of practice; the holes in the paddle added an extra dimension to the art-form, made drawing blood t the surface more likely. Two more swats like those and he was certain he would be rewarded with the red liquid. Mr. Delhi, CK to the flag girls under his wing always stopped a swat after he drew the first bit of blood;
Charlotta choked out, trying to control her shaking voice. A loud crack reverberated in the small space of the truck cab, as the paddle fell again, compressing her bottom and sending him lurching forward on the bed. He wailed, letting loose a loud fart. There was a stink cloud that permeated the sleeper cab from the paddle swat which had sunk in so deep he had farted, and had echoed around the truck cab totally humiliating himself as a touch of blood adorned her right bottom cheek.
Yells and wails rang out along with soprano pitch whimpers as he nearly collapsed from the force of the paddle landing yet again on her tortured cheeks, the sound of wood meeting flesh echoing around the truck cab.
“Done,” I announced as I eyed the pretty girl always so cocky quarterback’s girl and watched the blonde sob wetting the bedspread in front of him, splotches of blood blisters glistening on the purple mass of bruises coloring her bottom cheeks
Charlotta was blubbering like a little girl. “Please! I’ll do anything you want! Just don’t paddle me anymore!” Her voice was cracking in a feminine tone and tears continued to stream down her red congested face.
“Thanks Mr. Dehli”
“Oh, by the way Charlotta, BarbaraAnn held firm on one last un-negotiable condition before agreeing not to turn you in to Principal
“What, you already punished me with a spanking with that awful ping-pong paddle and then I had to sit and bounce around on my bruised bottom for two days while we made the truck delivery.”
Gigi
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