“You love it.”
“I do not!” The indignity of it was in my voice, my face, my attitude, but that indignation lasted only a second. I felt the man suddenly smack my well-framed derriere with the palm of his broad hand.
“If you don’t quit jumping into lies like they’re your clothes, I’ll take you into the woods and birch your behind so you’ll have lots to show off in your new corset. If you must leap into denying the truth, I’d suggest you simply keep quiet.”
“What if it’s not a lie?” I attempted one more argument.
That was met with the hairbrush. It was only inches from his hand, easy to retrieve, and the wooden back was coming down firmly on my buttocks until I was screaming.
“Okay! You’re right.”
“Of course, I am. You don’t need to tell me.” He stopped the spanking and pushed me
