Still wearing nothing but that effeminate flowered apron I again quashed my dismay and obeyed without question. By the time I’d done so Taylor had the buckle end of the belt from my discarded dress slacks looped around her hand and the rest snaking threateningly down from her clenching and unclenching fist. She still looked incredibly alluring in a tightly sashed white bathrobe with her waist-length hair still damp from her bath, and her implacably stern expression was subtly belied by the high color of excitement in her normally porcelain cheeks. Obviously those first hard slaps she’d delivered had merely whetted her appetite for the kind of constant physical chastisement she so clearly relished subjecting me to now.
“All right, Andy. Whenever you offend me, or fail to live up to my leas
