Or I should say that my arms flew around her all by themselves. It finally dawned on me that something was very, very wrong with my body. ‘Jean!’ ...y voice was saying. ‘There was an accident! There was a truck! It hit me, I’m sure! Oh, God, Jean, it was terrible!’ My voice was saying this, but I was not. I could feel everything. I could feel Jean’s arms holding me, her breasts against mine, I could smell her hair, but I had no control whatsoever over what I was doing or saying. The others were. Most of the men seemed intent on pestering me to meet them and at first I had no such intention to take it any further but I had to confess the idea of visiting a stranger with the intention of having my bottom smacked gave me such a delightful torrent of pleasurable emotions. I made a decision that in order to control what was now becoming almost an obsession I ought to act out some of my fantasies and began selecting several candidates for which to consider meeting in real life. I was. More

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