Safely Secured
When I entered my office and sat down on my office chair, a sudden, intense pain shot through my butt cheeks, nearly causing me to jump back up. I tried fidgeting to find a comfortable position, only to realize that one didn't exist.
I'd once claimed that a real spanking was something my boyfriend, Rob, could give me, but he couldn't. Funny enough, I found myself enjoying it. I still felt the impact the next day and it's been two years since Rob first gave me a spanking. It all started when we were fooling around and I wasn't entirely convinced he would follow through. When he did, it led to intense sex and mind-blowing climaxes I'd never experienced before. Rob and I pretty much remained in bed for the entire weekend. Even after he stopped spanking me, just lying across his lap on the couch kept me aroused and I reached a personal best for the number of orgasms attained in one weekend.
We didn't see each other again until Wednesday, when we met up for dinner. We had run-of-the-mill small talk at the start, but I couldn't hold back any longer. "That weekend was something else!" I exclaimed.
Rob responded with a knowing smirk. "I had a great time, but I don't think I enjoyed it as much as you did."
"Probably not," I replied.
"Do you want to tell me why?" he asked.
I eyed him. Was he joking? Did he not know what had turned me into a sex monster? If he hadn't realized, I intended to enlighten him.
Rob shot me another smile and said, "Spanking you was something I wanted to try. I'm glad you let me. But I wasn't prepared for your reaction." A third smile from him. "Your losing control turned me on just as much as the spanking itself."
Did he just say losing control? I could play along with that.
"Yeah, the spanking was like a switch but what followed was even better. The entire weekend was amazing." I blew him a kiss and he beamed.
Our meals arrived and the server cautioned us that the platters were hot. She refilled our drinks and once she left us alone, Rob continued. "So, I take it you'd like to do that again sometime?"
"You betcha."
"Alright, just so we're clear, I'd like to know what you're looking for," he said.
"I'm not so sure," I told him.
"You mean, do you want me to spank you for punishment or as foreplay?"
I stared at him, bemused. Had he not picked up on this? Was I really going to confess that being spanked had transformed me into a sexual firecracker? Well, if he hadn't grasped it, I wanted him to be in the know.
He eyed me intently, then broke into a smile. "You enjoyed it because it felt 'naughty' and spanking you served as an inducement for me to let loose. But if it were only a punishment, you might start misbehaving just to get spanked."
Well, he had a point.
"Maybe both? I wanted spankings as payback, but now I see it as a prelude to sex as well." He grinned approvingly.
"One more question: do you want me to use just my hands or other items?"
"Other items? Like what?" I confessed that I had considered being spanked a lot since last weekend and wondered if I needed to conduct more research.
"Like a hairbrush or a belt?"
I let out a silent moan. "To be honest, I haven't considered other options beyond your hand. I liked that one because it hurt without damaging, but I have no idea what other tools might feel like."
"Well, we'll have to try them out to find out, no?"
I nodded in agreement and we went on to discuss other things.
* * * * *p.s.
A safe word is a simple phrase agreed upon between two (or more) people engaging in an orgasmically-enhanced activity where either can interrupt the session if they're not liking it.
Yesterday, work was difficult, especially as I was preoccupied with my chat with Rob. I really, really, really wanted him to smack me again, at the very least using his hand. I found myself intrigued but somewhat anxious about the idea of "other things." Rob was on a brief work trip, so we wouldn't meet up until Saturday, and the wait made me realize how much I desired it.
After stopping by my preferred taco truck on my way home, I changed into more comfortable attire, discarding my bra and exchanging my work blouse for a t-shirt. I hastily finished my meal and then set out on a treasure hunt throughout my house, in search of items suitable for spanking. I started in the kitchen, rifling through drawers. I retrieved a solid plastic spatula and, feeling bold, I snapped it against my palm to gauge its potential impact. It was not that hefty and quite flexible, so, honestly, it didn't sting that much. The spatula was placed on the table as a possible option.
When I first moved into my apartment, my mother had helped me equip it with her duplicate kitchen tools. Some of these were useful, and the rest found their way to the back of the drawer and were used sparingly. I pulled out an older, wooden stirring spoon. It didn't seem heavy but was certainly solid. I conducted the hand test and was startled by the sharpness it produced. It was hefty enough that a prolonged spanking with it would likely be quite painful. I added it to the group of maybe-choices.
I returned to the living room, where I have a small desk. I opened the desk drawer to examine its contents. Inside, I found both a standard one-foot wooden ruler and an eighteen-inch metal one. I selected the wooden ruler to try on my palm first, but realizing that repeatedly hitting my palm would cause considerable discomfort, I opted to test the metal ruler on my buttock. I was wearing the slacks I'd worn to work, which were not exactly thick enough for adequate protection.
The metal ruler was relatively lightweight and less springy than the plastic spatula. I thought it might not sting me much. However, I was wrong. After I tried it on my palm and reached a new area on my buttock, it genuinely hurt, though not terribly so. I mused about the significance of a safe word.
I picked up the spatula and spoon, carrying them to my bedroom to lay them on my bed. In my living room, I opened a drawer containing various items, including a standard one-foot wooden ruler and an eighteen-inch metal one. I initially attempted the wooden ruler on my palm, but knowing the cumulative effect of hitting it there could be painful, I decided to try it on my buttock instead. It was quite light in weight and not particularly flexible, and the result was less of a stinging sensation and more of a stinging spank.
The metal ruler, on the other hand, was different. I brought it to my palm and butt cheek, and then onto my breasts. On my palm, it didn't feel too heavy, but it certainly stung. On my buttock, the sting was discernible but not severe. Upon trying it on my chest, my nipples took notice as well. That's interesting, I thought.
Rob had mentioned a hairbrush, so I ventured into the bathroom to fetch mine. I have two, actually. One is smaller, lighter, and meant for travel. Testing it, I thought it felt similar in terms of resistance and sting to the wooden spoon. I then picked up my regular hairbrush on my bathroom counter. It was wider and much heavier. Cautious, I hit just one of my buttocks with it, and the impact was noticeable. Not wanting to hurt myself too much, I suspected that Rob might use it more forcefully.
I revisited my bedroom and included the two hairbrushes into the collection on my bed. I looked around, but in my closet, I located a few distinct options. First, I snagged a wire hanger dangling on my blouses, extended it, and swung it back and forth. The sound it made startled me, and when I swatted my butt with it, the hanger stung significantly. Impressive.
Additionally, a belt organizer hung in my closet, filled with a variety of belts. The majority of them were finely woven to encircle a dress but not support it. I also had some heavier leather belts designed for denim. The brief smacks with the lighter belts established that a spanking with them would be largely symbolic, so it wouldn't be worth the effort. Heavier belts were employed for a leather belt, and I was indeed aware of its impact. It delivered a thumping sensation, spanking both cheeks. I mused over the fact that the diverse array of objects gathered on my bed provided a diverse range of sensations. I was unsure which sensation I favored, so I presumed that more experimentation would be necessary.
After searching through my apartment, it was almost time for my daily Skype call with Rob. We often chat about our daily lives, especially when one of us is travelling. Spending time with Rob had spiked my desire level. Our usual chats usually involve light teasing, but we hadn't dived into cyber sex yet.
To start some teasing, I decided to make him uncomfortable. Wearing a t-shirt without a bra, I tucked the shirt into my pants, creating a firm, stretched surface against my breasts. Grabbing my laptop, I aimed the camera at me and played with my nipples. I wondered if Rob would notice my naked breasts without a bra.
As I anticipated, Rob was lying in a hotel room bed when he joined the call. He looked surprising and a tad uncomfortable. Myself, I was positioned in my bed, holding pillows against the headboard. We exchanged work updates before I shifted gears.
"So, I was thinking about the items you mentioned for spanking," I said, brushing my hands over my breasts.
"Oh? And what did you have in mind?"
"What about this?" I picked up a hairbrush and held it in front of the camera. "Or this?" I picked up a spatula. Then I picked up a few belts and displayed them to him.
Rob's face had that stunned expression, as though he wanted to be in the same room as me. Maybe he was thinking the same thought as me, "How did I end up with this incredible woman?"
Despite his reluctance to engage, I continued.
"Or this one?" I picked up a wooden spoon and waggled it at the camera. "I'm not sure if it would work," I added, rolling over on the bed to show him my panty-clad bottom, spanking it with the spoon. "What do you think?" I asked.
Hesitating for a moment, Rob said, "I think that would be perfect and I can't wait to try it out when I get there."
I grinned, confirming that he'd stop by for lunch on Saturday. With his arrival, I knew the afternoon would include both spanking and lovemaking.
When we signed off, I felt a tension that urged me to do something about it, so I stripped off my clothes completely and headed to the bed. Sensing that Rob might not be sleeping well either, I quietly whispered that maybe, just maybe, we could imagine each other while we both have a phone camera. That way, we'd still be in control of what we showed.
* * * * *
After he knocked on the door, I hid behind it, only letting my small breasts peek out from behind the door, covered in the thin skirt of my t-shirt. I had intentionally left my door unlocked for this. When he entered the room, I pulled him into a deep kiss.
"How about we decide between eating lunch or getting each other off first?" I teased. Both options appealed to me and Rob seemed caught off guard.
"Is it one or the other?"
"Lunch it is," I said and went to the refrigerator to fetch sandwiches, salads, beers for him, and white wine for myself.
As we sat at the table to eat, I made it difficult for Rob to maintain a normal conversation by exposing my nipples from the tiny shred of fabric over my breasts. To keep his mind on the important tasks, I often pushed imaginary lint away from my nipples.
We managed to eat lunch and have our interesting conversation about how the weather had turned hot. Rob's discomfort was apparent. Sometimes I think he just loves being with me but doesn't always express it sufficiently.
I returned to the fridge for my wine and returned to the table, my breasts almost fully exposed. Checking to make sure no neighbors would see me, I sat back down and asked, "So, are we off to spank each other or shall we start with eating lunch first?"
Rob's eyebrows furrowed, and he tried to dismiss his sudden arousal. "Is that why you're dressed like that?"
"Yep, prepared a bit for a more lively lunch." We both chuckled. After eating, I felt nobody was watching and whispered into his ear, "You spend a few hours in my apartment, and I can promise you'll not be taking home bland memories."
We wrapped up our meal, so I got him another beer and topped off my wine as we migrated into the living room and settled on the sofa together. As I settled in, I became aware of my shirt's hem rising. I've always taken pride in my eyes, certain that they're my best feature, but few men seem to fixate on them. Rob, without a doubt, loved me for my boobs - and I was uncertain if I'd ever witnessed him checking out my legs until now. As my shirt inadvertently rose up, he refocused his attention, directing his eyes downward, so I assisted him by raising the hem to reveal more.
We snuggled closely, and I kissed him. Rob's hands gravitated to me but instead of his usual destination, my chest, his hands grazed my legs. He carefully stroked the outside and top of my right thigh until I spread my legs apart to permit him to touch my inner thighs. His fingers journeyed up and down with a rhythmic motion, zooming in on affected areas. I was pretty turned on by his arrival, my excitement escalating during lunch. I felt moist down there, and Rob's touch aroused me even further, triggering questions about whether he could discern it.
He drew back, unsure, and inquired, "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"During that night when you displayed your collection, were you sincere in wanting to experiment with them?"
I nodded emphatically. "Absolutely."
"Then tell me more about what you want," he urged.
"I'm not sure what I want, but I know I liked it when you spanked me. It was incredible and the aftermath was out of this world," I confessed. "So, I'm open to trying out different things to figure out what I actually enjoy."
"Me too," he concurred. "I thought spanking you would be amusing and wasn't certain you'd allow it."
"You know, I've heard of people incorporating spanking during sex, but it had never been a priority for me. It wasn't something I disliked, I just hadn't thought about it. You're an excellent lover, so if it brings you pleasure, I'm open to trying it."
"Since you said yes, I was pleasantly taken aback by your reaction."
"Me too!" I chimed. "I'm down for another one."
"And perhaps more, too?"
"Yeah. After experiencing your spanking, I'm eager for another round, and I think I'd crave more," I explained.
"Are you referring to this?" he inquired, picking up a small hairbrush.
"Yep, I'm cool with that," I responded. He swung the brush through the air, conjuring a solid sound.
"And the sound is definitely stingy," I acknowledged with a grin.
"I think that's the objective," he confirmed.
He gravitated toward the coat hanger, studied it, then appeared hesitant. I sensed it would be the one item I wasn't willing to try.
He eventually selected the thick belt, one I found especially alluring. Despite its heft, it was neither overly heavy nor did it instill fear of cutting me. It felt like a versatile addition. Rob whacked the bed with the belt to demonstrate its potential impact.
On reconsidering, he returned the belt to the rest of the collection and prioritized practicality. "We didn't communicate properly the previous time, and it's important. First, you must have a safety word. Yellow is for proceeding with caution, and red is a halt." To ensure he understood, I affirmed, "Got it."
"Next, are you comfortable with all of these things? Are there pieces you prefer or those you prefer to avoid?" he questioned.
"So, it seems like you have some concerns about certain objects causing injury. I get that. The wire hanger really freaked you out, huh? It could slice you, potentially quite deeply. Definitely not something we want." He picks up the hanger and tosses it aside. "What about the hairbrush and wooden spoon? They might bruise, but I think you'll manage."
"Alright, then. Any thoughts on how many spanks we're talking about?"
"I have no idea. Honestly, I was so focused on the hanger that I lost count." A sigh of frustration. "Just do what feels right. I'll use my safe word if things get too crazy."
"Got it. So, it seems you've been doing some planning and research."
"A bit. But now, let's bring your options into the mix." He lays out the items. "You choose three, I'll choose two. Let's start the night out with those." I scope out the options - the metal ruler and the belt are obvious choices. Feeling apprehensive about the hairbrush and wooden spoon but fearing they won't be intense enough, I hesitantly hand him the latter. He chose the lighter of my two hairbrushes and the plastic spatula. The rest head to the chair.
I stand and remove my shirt and panties. Rob does the same. "Lay across my lap?" he asks. A traditionally spanking position, I've been unsure about his intentions. "No... how about starting with the ruler?" I offer. I position myself, ass up and hands on the bed.
"Fifty?" he questions. I ponder for a moment. "Yup. I'm sure I can handle that." I miss the connection between his hands and my butt. "One," he declares. The ruler lands on my left check, "Two." It lands on my right. The stinging sensation lingers but isn't uncomfortable - almost nice, like warmth. He continues, alternating, and works his way up. At 10, 15, the stinging subsides into a mild ache. "Keep counting," he orders. My bottom begins to feel all warm and tingly. I'm getting turned on. One-two, my butt begins to buzz. He hits that same spot again. WOW. My clit is throbbing, my pelvis is full, and my breasts are bouncing with each swat. Given the new level of arousal, we break. "25? Sure thing."
He examines my backside. "How do you feel?" I reveal I'm incredibly turned on. We then resume, with the intensity increasing. He lands two on the same spot. A sharp pain sears through me and I yell, "ELEVEN!" Break time. "Yikes, that was intense."
"Fortunately, we have lots of play ahead of us. Should we continue on?" His rugged arms pick me up and deposit me on the bed, "I'll start with the steel ruler... hands on the mattress, toes facing the door." I secure my hands and wait for what's to come. "One. Two. THREE." My bottom flares up with each stroke. "Four. Five. Six. SEVEN." My left cheek feels hotter than the right. By eight, I'm already longing for more. I don't want to end... yet. Rob continues, the ruler lingering on each stroke. As he approaches number 21, I can't hold back my moans of anticipation and pleasure.
"Brake!" I request. "Let's continue with the belt." He picks up the thick black leather, "Maybe this time we should fold it?" My "Yes, please" was voiced before louder groans of satisfaction. He puts one loop around my waist. "One... two... three." The intensity rockets. The belt is stinging, not nearly as harsh as the ruler but already far more substantial. I count the shots, groaning louder with each. My backside throbs with warmth and desire. He lands another sucker. Intensity soars. "7, am I close to 25?"
"No, keep counting," my voice sounds low and demanding. I want to reach that heated arousal again. He swats me seven more times. 15, his pacing, still strong. I'm so on fire now. He gives me six more in a row. 21. "Dare you?" he taps my ass cheek. I moan my affirmation. I feel his hands return, my brain goes blank as I anticipate pain and pleasure. "TWENTY-FIVE!" I let out a cry, back arched, butt in the air. He slows his frenetic pace, his breath filling my ear. "Should I keep going?"
"Oh, YES!" My mind flashes with hopes of feeling one more climax. He hits me five more times, the belt's heft lingering longer than the ruler's sting. I consider it a blessing. He stops and we move on to another toy, an anticipated albeit slightly painful journey towards more gratification.
"You appear to be a bright red color," he remarked to me. "However, it's not due to bruising or anything. Should I continue to spank you or move to another body part?" I briefly considered telling him about how I had smacked my breast with the ruler but decided against it for the time being.
"It's your call," I replied, relishing the idea of giving him the authority during our play session and not knowing what surprises he might have in store.
He continued spanking me, this time on the back of my left thigh, just above the knee. He immediately followed it with an identical spank on my right thigh. He kept alternating between my legs, gradually moving up the thigh with each spank.
By my calculations, there were five more spanks remaining, and I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or disappointed. Perhaps I should suggest extending the count to 75? He may have been considering the same thought, as the last five were intense, full strength spanks aimed at hitting across both cheeks with a lot of overlap. By the time he administered spank number 50, my butt was on fire, and my vagina was soaking wet. We still had four different items to use, so I decided to hold off on making any additional suggestions.
Rob announced a break and I reclined on the bed. The discomfort in my butt prompted me to lie on my side. He snuggled next to me, holding me close. We shared some passionate kisses, and he inquired about my feelings.
"Extremely horny," I confessed.
He smiled. "Me too. However, I think we'll both have to hold off on satisfying our cravings." I could foresee that I was heading towards the most phenomenal orgasm of my life. "But what about your butt? How does it feel?"
"It's aching, but there's no noticeable damage or bruising," I assured him. He examined me again, confirming that my butt was scarlet red, but no visible damage was discernible. We embraced and kissed for several minutes. The dull ache in my butt cheeks lessened, but my arousal remained constant.
"Which object do you prefer next?" I pondered for a moment.
"Whatever you choose, but I want you to end with the belt," he said. I agreed, and he shifted to sit on the bed's edge. He had me rise and lie down across his lap.
Rob picked up the wooden spoon and traced it over my butt. The sensation brought back the pain, causing me to briefly fear the intensity of being spanked with it. However, I reminded myself that I had chosen this and still had a safe word available.
Holding the spoon in his right hand, he caressed my buttocks while his left hand fondled my leg. I opened my legs as much as I could without losing my balance on his lap, and he fingered my drenched groin. Then, with his finger, he slid into my aroused vagina and started thrusting. Almost simultaneously, he raised his arm and delivered a powerful tap to a region of my butt with the most padding. To my astonishment, despite the intensity of the spank, I experienced another wave of pleasure.
The spanked area throbbed painfully but not intolerably. I pondered what had prompted me to ask for this, but I also realized that with each spank, my arousal was growing, and I didn't wish to analyze my desires at that moment.
The spoon descended again, prompting a whimper from me. This time it was more painful than before, but not as much as I had anticipated. Rob's left hand continued stroking my thighs before conveniently pulling his finger out of me. He lifted the spoon one more time and unleashed another powerful swat, this time right at the center of my butt.
He informed me that my butt showed no signs of bruising. I believed him and went to investigate. In the bathroom, I pointed my butt towards the mirror and turned my head to check out the situation. My derrière varied from deep pink to light red, with no readily apparent damage, so I returned to the bedroom.
While I was away, Rob had gone into the kitchen and assembled a bowl of ice cubes and a moist washcloth. He encouraged me to lie on the bed, after which he prepared an ice pack and placed it on my backside. The chilly sensation soothed me, and my discomfort subsided.
"We can conclude the session if you wish," he offered with genuine concern. I was fairly certain he truly wanted to continue, but I appreciated that he was open to stopping if necessary. I wasn't exactly enjoying myself, but I could feel how my body was reacting and anticipated the climax.
Before orgasm, I wasn't certain about my feelings towards the spanking. It certainly caused pain but not unbearable agony or anything close. I thought back to a car accident I'd been in and how some body parts ached for weeks following it. This experience wasn't even close and, after the accident, there wasn't any feeling in my pelvis. Despite the hurt or potentially because of it, I was enjoying the situation and wanted it to carry on.
"If it's alright with you, I'm good to keep going," I finally spoke.
"I'll skip the hairbrush this time. You aren't bruised, let's not push boundaries," I complied and was actually relieved when he proposed this. Thinking about the possibility of going forward with heavier objects in the future?
"Alright, but you'll need to compensate with the belt," I unwittingly declared.
He instructed me to stay put, lying face down in the center of the bed. I put a pillow underneath my chest, embraced it, and spread my legs apart. Rob removed the ice pack however, took a few loose ice cubes and placed them on my cheeks until they melted.
When I had attempted the spatula against my palm, it seemed like spanking with it wouldn't be particularly thrilling. I hadn't considered how it would feel after he rubbed an ice cube on my butt. I didn't understand why the liquid intensified the sting but it did--more than anticipated. I was taken aback when he applied the first spank with it, exclaiming in response. He inquired if I was okay and then continued. It was similar to the metal ruler but once the water had evaporated, it became like a lifeless object. When he noticed that he wasn't getting a reaction anymore, perhaps after around 20 spanks, he discarded it and lay down beside me.
If my butt wasn't so tender, I might have flipped over, pulled him close, and then responded to the tension below. My arousal had diminished slightly but was still prevalent. Rob didn't propose this option; neither did I want to use my safe words. I desired to complete what we'd begun and then receive as many orgasms from him as feasible. With Rob, I knew I wouldn't be let down. I'd never been.
I shifted towards him, wincing due to the tension in my butt, and we kissed for some time. His hands roamed over my back and side, but thankfully, he just touched my butt gently. At length, he told me to bend over the bed again in the manner I had employed for the ruler. I immediately agreed. Then, he asked how many I imagined I'd want.
As before, I told him that he should dictate. "As long as I never invoke my safe word, I expect to receive around 25, but if you provide more, I'll tolerate it. I'll warn you when you're getting too intense so you can tone down."
Agreeing, I scooted off the bed and took my assigned position. Rob stood behind me, ensuring the buckle of the belt was secure while the end was loose. He displayed it to me and I noticed that he was holding it safely. Positioning himself right behind me, he swung the belt and it made contact with my left butt cheek, causing a mix of forceful impact and lingering sting. He repeated this with the right cheek. It hurt but not enough to make me request for a halt.
Rob then folded the belt three times, forming a bulky object. Holding the buckle safely, he struck my left cheek hard and the thick layers of leather induced a thudding noise and a developing warmth. He followed with a similar strike to my right cheek. He switched between the two, hitting the same location twice and generating a deeper arousal with each strike.
For each release of the belt, my body moved, causing a noticeable sway. My arousal was escalating rapidly--I was panting intensely and my nostrils flared with each swing of the belt.
He had reached the twentieth whack without saying a peep. Now, looming overhead, he swung the trusty belt once more, striking across my left leg with a fierce blunt force. He repeated this sting down my right one. As I conjured an image of the strap traversing mid-line and landing across my vulva, I shuddered at the thought. Afterwards, I could sense his departure from above.
My stamina held despite the hellacious strike, allowing me to stay put on the mattress. Upon rising, he guided my hand to my feet before enveloping me in a warm embrace. "I believe that's enough for today," he murmured.
True to his word, today was the end. Instead, all I craved was his tongue, his fingers, and his cock. Anxious to orgasm, I yearned for more, yearning to feel him inside me again and again.
I settled on my back, clutching the mattress as Rob repositioned himself amidst my legs, pushing me into agony with his face above my dripping opening. His hands masseured my sore buttocks, grating against my skin and tourture-like pain-pleasure sensations took over. With his tongue strokes, I struck a powerful climax.
As he eased up, I welcomed the much-needed break before resuming the pleasurable assault. Rob's eliquent kisses heralded another orgasm. But I imagined how much more pleasurable it would be if he was inside me, and so I encouraged him to end his torment.
Our spanking sessions are not part of our daily routine. In fact, not weekly either. But we save it for special occasions in our repertoire of passion. Despite these spanking adventurers, the hairbrush was put back in its rightful place in the drawer, waiting to grace me with another day of searing pain.
The ruler and the belt were designated our trusted spanking devices. But would this end our desire for such kinks? No, they were indispensable partners, like the wooden paddle hidden in the kitchen drawer.
On certain days, I find myself uncomfortable and squirming at my desk chair. These are the days, I silently yearn for the swift and wild punishments that only Rob can deliver.
Read also:
- My Close Friend, a Female, Fondled Me
- A Stepmother's Varied Testimony: Volume 3
- Listening to Their Groans: The Complete Narrative
- Slim, Youthful, and Well-Endowed in Part 2
Source: www.nice-escort.de
