Rob remained silent throughout this, content to let his wife control the situation. He absently began to stroke his already hard c**k through his jeans.
"Alright, that's enough. Stand up and turn around to face us," Amy ordered. "Since you are so fond of showing everyone your t**s, I think it's only appropriate we start with those, don't you?" she asked Debbie. Walking over to her dresser, Amy grabbed her wooden hairbrush and walked back over to stand in front of Debbie. "Hands behind your back. Now ask me to punish your t**s," Amy ordered.
"P..please punish my t**s Ma'am," she meekly replied with her hands clasped behind her back.
"well, alright. If you insist." And with that she brought the brush down hard against Debbie's left breast with a resounding SMACK. Debbie cried out in pain,
