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Date Posted:13:35:03 07/08/21 Thu
Woe is me. A sad day. Nay, a terrifying weekend ahead. A conjunction of mothers, and my sister. All here for mother's birthday. A joyous occasion, you say, but no, I fear not. The problem you see is this. All three women spanked, and so did/does my better half. My daughter is a wannabe apprentice to this noble maternal labour of love.
It is the second glass of wine that does it for mother, you understand. She starts to reminisces, she holds forth. The subject of her monologues? Spankings, and for the most part, those she gave me. There are giggle, there is teasing and ribbing. My role? Bit slow with that wine, aren't you, Mark? Come on, fill the glasses. Your mother will die of thirst.
I will bluster, I will complain, I will blush. All to no avail. I have to endure. My brow is fevered, my stomach is turning. What can I do?