One. Smack. Two. Smack. Three. Smack. Four. Smack. Five. “How many is that now?” He asked, pausing for a moment. He probably needed a break from t...he quick movements. I still couldn't see him, but I could imagine that he was drenched in sweat, already. “Five, Daddy.”He didn't say anything, just grunted in acknowledgement of my correct answer. Smack. Six. Smack. Seven. Smack. Eight. The ninth one had a considerable amount of force behind it. Smack. “Niiiinnnneeee.” I shouted out, accidentally, my. Then as he stepped into the panties and started to pull them up his legsI knew things would never be the same in our household again. I alsoknew his penis would show so I told him to tuck it back between his legs.He stood there for a moment before picking up the suspender belt andlooking at it."How do I put this on, Mummy?" He asked.He hadn't called me that since he was 4 years old! He was so helpless."Same principal as a bra," I instructed him. "You put it round you backto front and attach. Eight, that’s ok?... Brilliant... No, but I already have a few ideas, we can do some brainstorming later... You think so?... Ok... Until eight, honey... See you!” The phone was snapped shut again, and Lisa pulled another chair over and sat down, in a ninety degree angle to Helen. She started to talk about this and that, about their gardens, the work to get the house inhabitable again, anything and everything, as if the scene earlier hadn’t happened. At first, Lisa had to coax each answer from. Wolfman smirked. It reminded Moe of a picture one of the gossip sheets had run of Fatty Arbuckle a few years back before his rape trial – lewd enough to think he had the world by the collar. The louse nodded his agreement, and the entire group watched as Mr. Lucky laid down his hand. Moe didn’t have to hear to know everyone was impressed. Everyone but Wolfman. As Mr. Lucky reached to scoop up the pot, Wolfman stopped him by laying down his own cards, one at a time – a five, a six, a seven, an.