Taylor Pierce thinks she can sneak around, but I always check the laundry. There I find it: a tiny, lacy thong stuffed in the corner, screaming “slut.” I storm into the living room, ready to confront her, only to catch her on the couch watching a video of herself sucking her boyfriend’s dick. That’s it. No more games. I snatch the thong from my hand and shove it into her mouth as a gag, then wrap her lips tight with cling wrap, silence is part of her punishment. Her hands are bound with rope, wrists pulled behind her back, before I yank her over my lap. My palm comes down hard and fast on her bare ass, smack after smack, each one turning her cheeks a deeper pink. She writhes, muffled moans escaping under the plastic, but I don’t stop until she feels every second of her shame. When I’m done, I leave her tied up on the couch, legs trembling, ass glowing, to sit and think about how a good girl never hides slutty secrets from her stepmom.
