“Abigail! Fetch me the hairbrush,” Mother ordered.Oh no… the hairbrush. I dreaded the hairbrush. Now, over the years Mother had spanked us with ...ifferent things, but it was mostly her hand that bore the brunt of the work. I had only gotten the hairbrush once and it was the type of sharp shocking pain I never wanted to receive again. This time she was going to apply it right to Samantha’s bare bottom.When I handed her the wooden veneer-backed brush, she only acknowledged me with a simple. "What about gays? Are some of the guys gay?" She left the real questionunspoken, but he answered it for her. "Yeh, there's two or three whoare. They've cruised me but it's not my thing. Good guys though, I'vegot nothing against them."'Well,' she thought, 'seems like they come in all flavours out therewhere the surf is breaking. Let's find out what flavour he really is.'And she decided then to push hard. She stood up. "Do you like my newdress? It's the one you recommended." He nodded his. More

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