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"Thanks, Rita," she said. "Well, I guess we might as well get this over with," she continued, seemingly realistic about how the game would end. She picked up the cards, shuffled and dealt again. She won two hands and I was soon out of my shirt and jeans and had only my bra and panties left. I felt the first twinges of anxiety.
After the next hand though Rhiannon revealed a pair of fives to my pair of nines. She sighed, resigned, and then she stood and pulled her panties down and off. She did a little stylized pose: one knee bent above pointed toes, and a hand on her hip and the other hand in the air, her panties dangling from a finger. Her face took on some extra color.
I looked her up and down with real appreciation. Her body, between thirteen then and eighteen now, had become that of a woman. Her hips were narrower than mine, but still had an appealing swell to them that had not been there five years before. I already mentioned that her breasts had grown from buds to the full, lush, and sensual bosom of a young but mature lady. Her dark hair fell about her shoulders. I noted that she kept her pubic hair in a neat little triangle above and completely bared below. Frankly, I was not surprised to feel the first stirrings of arousal. But Rhiannon broke the spell before I could pursue the thoughts developing in my mind.
"Well," she said with a little shrug of resignation in her voice, "I guess I have a good hard paddling coming. Twenty hard cracks in my immediate future?"
She had calculated correctly: I had lost four hands and had two pieces of clothing left. But I heard her words and knew immediately the meaning: she had just extended her permission to swing away, to not hold back and make this only a little perfunctory paddling, but to see how red I could make her ass and how many tears I could get leaking from her eyes in the space of the wagered twenty smacks. Was she issuing a challenge?
Falling into the narrative she seemed to be advancing I smiled at her with what I hoped was a look of satisfaction and superiority: the look one who has the upper hand uses toward someone obligated to submit.
