This seemed to be roughly the plan that Dev had for me. He sat comfortably below my throbbing doubled rear end and took up the terrifying shallow wooden spoon with its foot-long handle. I was literally trembling as he ran it over my poor frightened breasts, which savored the gentle stroking of the hard wood in the sure knowledge that the very same surface was soon to make a radically different contact with the very same nerve endings. He grinned rather evilly at my distressed face, drew back the spoon with his powerful muscly forearms, declared, “Time for very naughty girls to have their tender titties spanked until they scream for a very long time...” and struck.
This was a different pain than my buttocks and thighs had just experienced. Nothing had prepared my breasts for being treated
