I watched Jenny watch Charlie eat. For the nth time in my writing of this chronicle, she smiled a broad smile. It led me to believe that she, too, enj...yed, the simple pleasure of watching a cat eat. Just I enjoyed the simple pleasure of watching her smile. Just as Charlie apparently enjoyed the simple pleasure of a spoonful of canned catfood, but no where near as quickly.He turned, gave me a look that said, “thank you, Kenneth” in a slight New-England-preppy-WASP accent. He left the kitchen in. The feel of his hand on the top of my head while I steady clean his feet after a long hard day, smelling the scent of overworked. And what of my hard day, what would come of it? Pulled up and over his knee, I feel my day unfold with every stroke of his hand across my bare bottom. The sting of his ringed fingers, across my taunt butt. Over and over again, feeling the sting, the itch and then burn of the strength of his swats. Heat rushed over me, even more so when he reached between my legs and. More

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