“Penelope Margaret Penfield, cut it out!” I chuckled.“Or what?” she smirked. “You’ll turn me over your knee? Would you? Please?”She was ...ight. There really wasn’t anything I could do. Threatening to move her out of my office was, in the end, an empty threat. It was a ‘problem’ of my own making, and something I’d have to put up with for another forty or fifty years. Or more!June 8, 1991, Chicago, Illinois“Well, that was about as boring as anything I’ve ever sat through,” my sister said as we. “Bet that’s made you really hard hasn’t it slut?” she smiled. “Yes Miss,” I groaned and I clenched my teeth trying not to cry out again. “Then show me,” she commanded and she grasped me by the hair and pulled my head and body back still pinning my palm with her heel. My cock stood proudly upward before her jutting from its bed of dark trimmed hair. The shaft was glistening with perspiration and the swollen head was already dripping with pre cum. She lifted her foot and I pulled my sore hand. More

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