Miss Baxter’s Girls: Anise the Snowboarder
By Davina Lee
I am kneeling on the seat of an antique Victorian arm chair that’s probably worth more than I have in my bank account at the moment. That’s okay though, Miss Baxter’s covered it with a bed sheet in case I start to leak. I grip the back of the chair—because I’m facing the wrong way—and spread my thighs. My jeans are a puddle on the floor.
“Are you ready, Anise?”
“Yes, Miss Baxter.”
“What words are you going to remember if things get too intense?”
“Red and yellow, Miss Baxter.”
“Good girl. Ten was the number we agreed upon, correct?”
“Yes, Miss Baxter.”
Crack!
The sound of the leather riding crop striking my bare buttocks fills my ears. I shudder and relish the warmth spreading over my skin. As usual, she is going easy on me
