She whimpered a bit and headed down the hall to the bedroom. She returned with my cane that is actually just a quilting rod, about two feet long, made of pine with roughly the circumference of an ink pen. It is keen enough to raise a welt upon impact. When she handed me my cane I asked if she would need to be tied down for this, but she thought she could handle it on her own. Tiff asked how many the bitch had coming and I answered five; Tiff took a grimace filled look at the soon to be victim but said nothing. I instructed the slut to grab the coffee table so her mistress could see the shame in her eyes for disobeying me. She lowered her BLACK thong to her knees before bending at the knees to place her hands palms down on the coffee table. I walked over to her with cane in hand and without warning brought the first blow screeching through the air and ending with a violent collision with my slave’s butt cheeks. Her knees nearly fell out from under her and she wailed in pain, likely. Was that dream from this morning his subconscious telling him that Brin felt the same way? But he had to stop this...didn’t he? Tom pulled his mouth from Brin’s, but kept his arms around her, his hands on her hips as if to push her gently away. His daughter’s arms were still looped around his neck, and as Tom looked down at her face, he felt a combination of guilt and lust that nearly drove him to his knees. “Brin, babyI...” Tom began. Brin spoke at the exact same moment: “Dad, I...” Tom crushed his mouth back to hers, sucking her tongue into his mouth, sliding his hands to grip her ass and pulling her hard against him. Brin was stunned. She felt certain that her dad was about to start protesting, and she had every intention of begging him not to stop. When his mouth found hers again, she ran her fingers through Tom’s hair, and she moaned when she felt his hands kneading her ass and pulling her against his stiff cock. Tom was possessed now. He didn’t care if Brin was his.
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