The old man sat there, smirking. And at his side was his walking stick. A knurly old wooden stick. The handle was much like the handle of an old sword... it was polished smooth at the pommel, the top eight inches having a pronounced curvature, towards another bulbous lump further down at the hilt, the rest of the stick then tapered straight towards the floor.‘Oh my word…” she thought to herself as she eyed the would-be wooden dildo. The old man lightly caresses the head and then let his fingers. “No, sorry Miss,” he told her. “I...I have no idea how many you should punish me with.” She pinched his flesh and then moved her hand around to take hold of his cock. “Would you say that a severe punishment is in order then?” she said as she moved her hand back and forth. Bill groaned. “Yes Miss.” “So do I,” she told him. “Follow me.” Bill turned as she began her walk towards the door. He knew where was taking him; he knew that he was going to feel pain but the swish of dress; the movements. More

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