The sound on her i-phone notified her of a new message.
She picked it up, not wanting to look at the screen.
She had done wrong, so very wrong and was expecting it.
She also knew she might have lost all she had, or ever wanted.
A few finger movements later and there it was before her eyes,
"You have received a message from "Daddy"
jo jo just stared at the screen as her mind wandered to past texts;
**********
"jo jo, visitor @ 10.30, shower, gym outfit, dining room."
Jo jo tingled, who would it be, what would it be, she checked her watch, 9.30.
She ran upstairs and into her bedroom.
Stood in front of the mirror she slowly removed her grey jogging top to reveal a pair of the most gorgeous tits a young girl could posses.
In fact if tits could be chosen 99% of girls would select them.
They were the shape of a grapefruit, only about half as big again.
Standing proudly away from her body as if moulded.
Her areola, perfect circles like the base of a mountain, and her mountains, nipples as pink and upright as they ever could be.
She studied and tweaked them one at a time, and then both together and then the right one again as her left hand disappeared into her matching grey jogging bottoms and into her panties.
Her fingers exploring her secret places, one, two then three splitting her lips and working her clit on their exit.
She was so wet, and so high on her forthcoming meeting she came where still stood, her fingers reached her mouth and she devoured the sweet results of her toils.
9.55, OMG, she lowered her jogging bottoms and panties all at once and dashed into the shower, no time to play this time, she felt to make sure she was perfectly smooth, she knew she would be as she only visited the spa yesterday.
Juan, a young Mexican gay man, waxed her; she always had Juan to see to her, his soft hands on her tummy and pussy lips were so relaxing, because of his sexual status she never felt threatened, aroused, why yes, a man touching a 19 year olds slit.
She dried and chose the laciest bra and pants she had followed by her bottle green polo shirt and gym tunic.
New white ankle socks and her best white trainers. She brushed her naturally wavy golden locks and platted 2 pigtails.
There, done, well it's a s good as I can get, she chuckled and raced down stairs, 10.20
She took a deep breath and selected the corner next to a window so she could see any reflection behind her.
The hall clock struck 10.30 as the dining room door opened and she could just make out a large black figure, which walked like a man.
Her hands gripped the back of her head as he moved towards her, stopping to place something on the table.
His hands reached up under her gym tunic, a thumb entered each side of her panty waistband, his fingers dwelt towards her inner thighs and almost touched her lips.
She swallowed hard, not because he almost touched her lips, but how big his hands must be. The bigger the hand, the harder the spank.
She felt the air on her bottom as they were lowered to her knees; she instinctively opened her legs to keep them in position.
He released her panties and lifted her very short skirt over her pale bottom cheeks highlighted by 10 or more thin fading stripes.
She had obviously needed caning a few days earlier, his large hands caressed her cheeks and his fingers traced the cane ridges.
His hand spread her girly bottom cheeks, his fingers touching her bummy hole.
