Chain, chain, chain....

[Nikita]

Her head snapped back. The stinging sensation left her shivering from head to toe. After a moment, humiliation washed over her like warm piss.

[Aesop]

"One!" she heard her sisters call out. They were hoping to please him. Not to make it easier for her, but to make it easier on themselves when it was their turn.

[PowerGames]

Beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead, not for exertion but from the excitement of seeing her skin redden and quiver. Her shifting and writhing fanned his desire. The sister's counted his rhythmic strokes which he applied in a fucking tempo.

[Nikita]

She recalled the last time she received a thrashing. Her teacher had called on her for a recitation and she was unprepared as usual. The whole class witnessed her pissing on herself out of shame.

[Aesop]

He held back a stroke to break the expected rythm and watched in satisfaction as she flinched anyway. Her sisters tried to keep up as the next three strokes fell in quick succession. She cried out but managed to keep her ass in place for him.

[Nikita]

The rapid rhythm of his strokes was interrupted by a banging on the door. The sisters looked at each other and then at him. They didn't know what to do.

[PowerGames]

Mrs. Beckham, the principal of Durham college for girls burst in the room. She seldom missed the opportunity to see Mr. Withers work his magic on the backside of some disobedient girls. When she saw the three sisters lined up so seductively, she smiled lewdly and drew near the action.