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It became a matter of course that whenever I was to be spanked or given a punishment enema or humiliated in one way or another, Mom now not only invited her lady friends over to watch, she asked them to bring their own daughters along to share in the fun.I could tell it was fun for them since everybody laughed a lot at what was being done to me, but I can assure you it was no fun at all for me. Both when my brothers were around and when her friends were around, mother had gotten in the habit of saying, “Debbie, show us your target. What this meant was just awful for me.Under the threat of even worse punishment if I didn’t obey, “show me your target” meant I had to take off everything I was wearing below my waste, panties or shoes and socks or half slips or whatever, and I had to hold up anything else, like a dress, that might block anyone’s view. Then when my bottom was totally on display, I had to go to what had become known as “the punishment corner” in the living room, bend over. She had sat and pulled the stockings up to her thighs. She had carefully aligned the silken seams and then attached the dainty lace garter belt about her waist.After strapping on the heels she looked at her image in the full-length mirror. She turned herself this way and that. She knew she was an erotic vision. Andrew had told she had been designed by nature to make men crazy with want. He called her a dream girl."Every man's dream but his, of course," she added under her breath.She giggled and walked over to her closet to see what else Andrew had bought her. There was nothing new there. She was puzzled for a moment, and then decided possibly it had not been delivered yet. She checked the time and saw the guests would not arrive for another hour. She sat on her bed and waited.Time passed and she became alarmed. She was never permitted to call his room. So she sat nervously watching the minutes pass. When she heard voices downstairs, she realized the guests had arrived. Alarmed, she.
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