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A nude delivery girl tells her story.

I loved my white sheer seamed stockings best. When paired with my open toe 4" heels, it would drive Ben crazy as those too, were his favorite.

Again, Ann was struck by the similarity to Cal's kink for seamed white stockings...she was listening ever more intently as Hilary continued.

When Ben would come home and see me in a pencil skirt, white seams and 4" heels, he would get really horny, despite the fact he knew full well before he was allowed any satisfactions, he would certainly endure a lengthy and quite severe punishment on this bench.

Ann fondled the straps at the corners of the bench.

I always bound Ben's ankles first since it gave me an extended opportunity to look him straight in the eye when I wanted to deliver my message why he was about to be punished. It also afforded me the delightful chance to run my hand up this thigh, over his bottom with increasing pressure as I continued up the small of his back, ever so delicately bending him over the bench.

As Hilary paused, the hint of a smile emerged.

I fastened his hands here. As I did, I made it a point to touch his fingers...they were always cold...it took me several months after I started disciplining Ben over this bench to learn why...he told me that the apprehension was the most difficult time in a session...more than enduring the fiery pain. I learned that getting his mind prepared for what was about to happen was our most intimate moment during a session...I learned to lower my voice...to talk to him at a much slower pace, almost whispering what I would be doing next. I would pause between words so I could listen to his breathing. When his breaths transitioned from a fast, deep breaths to a more normal pattern, I would fasten this final strap across his lower back, completing his preparation. I keep my 'friends' here...

Drawing back a sliding closet door and sliding the winter clothes to one side, Hilary revealed an array of wooden brushes and paddles, leather crops and straps and three canes. Hilary moved to the closet and reached for a 24" leather strap, removing it from a peg at the back of the closet.

This was my favorite. I made Ben make it for me. It used to be a shoulder strap from an old carryon suiter that I took on the plane before roller bags. The rubber padding became hard and cracked off. When I went to have it replaced, I accidently doubled it back on itself and "voila", it sung to me...I had Ben stitch the shoulder part together forming the business end of the strap...when I told him to stiffen the handle portion, he stitched in a piece of coaxial cable into the handle as he sewed it together. When I told him I wanted a wrist strap at the handle end, he wrapped it with this leather boot lace and finished with this wrist piece I can put my hand through and double back as I grasp the handle.

With that, Hilary slipped her hand through the loop and clamped down on the handle. Hilary looked Ann in the eye and winked.

I love this strap. I could use over the course of 30 minutes and deliver 50 to 200 strokes, varying from light slaps to smart strokes that would wrap midway around his hips, which he told me were quite painful, to welt inducing blows that he would have for a week. As part of my dominance of Ben, I would have him oil all my leather friends, telling him to provide extra oil and care to this strap. While it was not the most intense of my friends, it was by far the most versatile.

I am quite adept in both forehand and backhand strokes.

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