“Thank you, Auntie Gretchen,” I replied.
Moments later, Gretchen had me bent over the hassock in the punishment position, my bottom bared, my wrists and ankles tightly bound in secure leather restraints.
Outside the sun blazed brightly but inside Gretchen had left the air conditioning on. The interior of the house felt cool and the huge walnut tree on the south side cast an agreeable shade.
At the opera, Gretchen had worn a black A-line skirt with a carpet pattern vest and a white blouse like a man’s shirt. Except for the colorful vest, there had been a severe, almost masculine cast to Gretchen’s appearance.
Before opening herself to my tongue, Gretchen changed into her lovemaking raiment of slit panty, lace-trimmed bra, and high heels—all in pink. She remained in this outfit even as t
