The hotel security came and wanted to know what was going on. I told him how the guy getting into the ambulance was bothering our niece, and slipped and got kicked by her Aunt Jeri. He asked us if we were staying at the hotel. We all said yes. He acted like he thought there was something more to it.I had another vision right there; I was the security guard, a police officer and Jeri all talking about this.Why don't we all go upstairs and have room service for lunch.As soon as we got into the room I asked Jeri, "What was that? I have seem just about every fighting technique, I have never seen that." When I was in LA going to school, and dancing, a little Chinese man that lived in my building stopped me from being mugged one night. He showed me how to fight and attack someone, and act how not to look like I was fighting at all. He tried to teach me something call "Ti Chi", but it was to slow for me, so he helped my work out a dance routine that would help me defend my self. He said. “Your ass. Your cute rump. Your thighs. Your stomach.” I paused. “Your tits.”“Green light, Christina,” she said, staring at me, her tone surprisingly calm given the trembles wracking her body. Her fingers twitched as she swayed. “This must be done right, Mistress.”“Yes, it does,” I said, my smile growing.I stalked around her, my dick throbbing in my panties. I was going to whip a girl. Spank her. I had dreamed of this so many times. This was all Ann Rice's fault. If I never read that Claiming of Sleeping Beauty erotica she wrote like fifty years ago, I wouldn't have discovered the hot joys of this wicked treat.I stared at Philippa's toned rump. That beautiful, pale, peachy ass. It was perfect. Just begging to be striped in red. My heart screamed in my chest. I drew in a deep breath, fighting against the impulses in me.I must be in a control.A futa-domme isn't a slave to her desires. That was what set her apart from the submissive. She yoked her passions and channeled them into the.
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