Dread bubbled in Amanda's stomach as she thought about tomorrow’s "appointment" with Mr. Reynolds. She had no idea what he had planned for her, but she knew it probably wasn’t going to be good. With a heavy heart, she approached her house, trying to calm herself before facing her parents. Her red, swollen eyes were a dead giveaway to her inner turmoil, so she quickly wiped away her tears and took a deep breath. She couldn't let them see how scared she was. Adding to her anxiety, she didn't even own the required blue skirt and white crop-top shirt. She would have to ask her mother to take her to the store and buy them, adding another layer of embarrassment to an already humiliating situation.

Amanda ran into her house and immediately up to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow as fresh tears flowed. Her mind raced with panic and regret. How could she have been so stupid? One moment of recklessness had spiraled into a nightmare she couldn't escape.

After a while, she heard a gentle knock on her door. "Amanda? Sweetie, is everything okay?" It was her mother's voice, laced with concern.

Amanda quickly wiped her eyes and tried to steady her voice. "Yeah, Mom. I'm fine. Just... tired from biking."

There was a pause before her mother spoke again. "Alright, well, dinner will be ready in an hour. Why don't you rest until then?"

"Okay, thanks," Amanda replied, relieved her mother didn't press further.

As she lay there, Amanda's thoughts turned to tomorrow. She needed that outfit Mr. Reynolds demanded. With a deep breath, she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror, practicing a casual expression. She had to act normal, had to find a way to get those clothes without arousing suspicion.

When she finally went downstairs for dinner, Amanda forced herself to eat and make small talk, all while feeling like she might throw up at any moment. After the meal, she helped her mother clean up.

"Hey Mom, I was wondering... if maybe we could we maybe go shopping tonight? I need some new summer clothes," Amanda asked casually.

Drying her hands on a towel, her mother smiled. "Of course, honey. What kind of outfits did you have in mind?"

Amanda swallowed hard. "Um, I don’t know… something... summery."

An hour later, they were at the mall. Amanda's heart raced as she scanned the racks, searching for items that matched Mr. Reynolds' specifications. Her mother browsed nearby, occasionally holding up a shirt or dress for Amanda's approval.

"What about this one, sweetie?" her mom asked, presenting a yellow sundress.

Amanda shook her head. "It's nice, but I was thinking something more... preppy? Maybe a pleated skirt?"

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "That's a bit different for you. But alright, let's see what we can find."

After some searching, Amanda located a short, light blue pleated skirt. She tried to keep her voice calm as she showed it to her mom. "This is cute, right?"

"It's adorable. But isn't it a little short?" her mother questioned.

Amanda forced a smile. "It's summer, Mom. Everyone's wearing shorter skirts."

Her mother shrugged. "Did you want to look for a top to go with it?"

Amanda nodded, her stomach churning as she made her way to a display of crop tops. She selected a tight white one, holding it up for her mom's inspection.

Her mother frowned slightly. "That's awfully revealing, Amanda."

Amanda shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "It's just for hanging out with friends. Everyone's wearing them."

In the dressing room, Amanda's hands shook as she tried on the outfit. The skirt was indeed very short, barely covering her bottom, and the crop top was very tight and left her midriff exposed. Wearing the outfit she felt like one of the slutty girls that she went to school with, knowing this was exactly what Mr. Reynolds wanted. Fighting back tears, she changed back into her regular clothes and took the items to the checkout counter. Her mother asked if she wanted anything else, but Amanda just wanted to get this over with and told her mom that she was tired and wanted to go home.

That night, Amanda barely slept. She tossed and turned, her mind filled with anxiety about what the next day would bring. When morning came, she felt sick to her stomach. She managed to eat a little breakfast and tried to act normal around her parents.

As 2:00 PM approached, Amanda quickly changed into her new outfit with a sense of unease. Examining herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel self-conscious. The short skirt barely covered her thighs and as she turned to look at her back, she could see the fabric rising up, revealing the bottom of her smooth butt cheeks. She tugged at the tight, white top and grimaced as she realized how transparent it was - every contour of her breasts and even her nipples were clearly visible through the flimsy fabric. She had to get out of the house without her mother seeing her because she knew her mom would never let her go out dressed like this. Frantically, she shouted that she was meeting some friends and dashed out of the door, jumping on her bike and pedaling away as fast as she could.

With a heavy heart, she made her way towards Mr. Reynolds’ house, the plastic of her bicycle seat cool against her naked ass and pussy. The gentle breeze from her movement kissed her exposed thighs and lifted her short skirt, giving any onlookers a view of her bare bottom. She couldn't help but feel scared and fragile as she rode through the quiet neighborhood, dreading what was to come.

She once again rode up the long driveway, but unlike yesterday, she was not looking forward to her time here today. She climbed off her bike and trudged to the front door. Her hand shook as she reached for the doorbell, the sound of the chime inside made her wince. She stood and waited, hoping beyond all hope that he wasn’t home, but suddenly the door opened and there stood a smiling Mr. Reynolds.

“Come in, come in, my dear,” he said in a welcoming voice. “I am so happy you came to visit me today and might I add, what a lovely outfit you have chosen to wear,” he said as he gestured her inside.

Amanda slowly entered the house trying hard not to start crying. When she stepped into the foyer, Mr. Reynolds closed the door behind her engaging the lock with a soft click. The sound made her jump slightly, her nerves on edge.

"Let's go to the living room, shall we?" Mr. Reynolds said, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her. His touch sent an involuntary shiver through her body.

The living room was spacious and elegantly furnished, with large windows overlooking the backyard and pool. Mr. Reynolds gestured for Amanda to sit on an oversized leather couch. She perched nervously on the edge, trying to tug her short skirt down to cover more of her thighs.

"Now then," Mr. Reynolds said, settling into an armchair across from her. "Let's have a look at you. Stand up and do a little twirl for me."

Amanda's cheeks burned as she slowly stood. She turned in a small circle, acutely aware of how the movement caused her skirt to rise up, giving him a glimpse of her ass cheeks.

"Very nice," Mr. Reynolds murmured appreciatively. "Now, why don't you face the couch and bend over and touch your toes?"

Amanda's eyes widened in shock. "But... but my skirt..." she stammered.

Mr. Reynolds' expression grew concerned. "I thought we had an understanding, Amanda. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’ll just call your father at the office and have him stop by and pick you up. That will give me a chance to let him know what went on yesterday,” he stated as he picked up his phone off the end table next to his chair.

Tears welling in her eyes, Amanda turned to face the sofa and slowly bent forward. She could feel the cool air on her exposed bottom as her skirt rode up, fully revealing her naked ass and pussy to Mr. Reynolds' gaze. She squeezed her eyes shut in humiliation as she touched her toes, knowing he was getting an unobstructed view of her privates.

"My, my," Mr. Reynolds said softly. "What a lovely sight. Hold that position."

Amanda's ears picked up the faint electronic click of his phone camera as he captured several pictures of her behind. She could hear the crinkle of leather as he stood, a subtle but distinct sound that made her body tense with anticipation. She could sense his presence looming behind her causing goosebumps to rise on her skin as she waited for his next move, unsure of what to expect. Suddenly, she felt his hand caress her exposed bottom. She gasped and instinctively tried to stand up straight, but his other hand pressed firmly on her back, keeping her bent over.

"Now, now," he chided. "I didn't say you could move yet."

His fingers trailed down, brushing against her exposed labia. Amanda whimpered softly, a mix of fear and unwanted arousal coursing through her body.

"Such a pretty little pussy," Mr. Reynolds murmured. "And do I feel you getting wet? I think you're enjoying this more than you let on, aren't you?" he teased as he softly chuckled, his fingers continuing to stroke her pussy. After a few moments he stopped his fondling and returned to his chair. “Please my dear, have a seat and make yourself comfortable,” he directed.

Amanda straightened up slowly, her face burning with shame. She tugged her skirt down and returned to sitting on the edge of the couch. Her heart was racing, and she could feel dampness between her legs, much to her embarrassment.

Mr. Reynolds leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Do you like games of chance Amanda?” Not waiting for a response he continued, “I like games of chance. I think it’s the unknown, the thrill of not knowing what the outcome is going to be. Gets your heart racing and your blood pumping.” He stood and walked over to a cabinet, pulling out a large circular board with a spinner in the center.

"I call this the Wheel of Desire. The rules are simple," Mr. Reynolds explained as he set the board on the coffee table between them. "You'll spin the pointer, and whatever it lands on, you have to do. I think it will be exciting for both of us to see what fate has in store, don’t you?"

Amanda's eyes darted nervously over the board looking at the ten colorful pie shaped sections, her breath catching as she read some of the tasks: "Hand Job," "Blowjob," "Spanking," "Masturbate to Orgasm," and those were the mild ones, the others were far worse. One section was covered with a bright red triangle of paper with a large black question mark. She felt sick to her stomach.

"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't want to do this."

Mr. Reynolds smiled. “That’s okay Amanda, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable with,” he explained as he pulled a small USB stick out of his shirt pocket.

“What’s that?” she asked looking at the device in his hand.

“Oh, this? It’s just the footage from my security cameras showing all of the crimes you committed yesterday,” he calmly said as he slowly twirled the USB stick between his fingers.

As one solitary tear slowly made its way down her soft cheek, Amanda reached out a quivering hand towards the spinner. But just as her fingers brushed the smooth surface of the board, Mr. Reynolds spoke up in a hushed voice, "Amanda, stop." A spark of hope ignited in Amanda's chest as she withdrew her hand and looked up at him with eager anticipation.

His expression softened as he took a moment to meet her gaze. A kind smile played on his lips and for a brief moment, Amanda dared to believe that this ordeal was over. "Don’t you think this would be a much more enjoyable game if you were nude?" he asked with a playful wink. A wave of shock washed over Amanda shattering her fleeting hope and replacing it with despair.

Resigned to her fate, Amanda let out a small sign and quietly answered, “Yes,” as she leaned down and removed her shoes. She then grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her small breasts. Finally, she stood and unzipped her skirt letting it drop to the floor before stepping out of it. She stood completely naked before him, feeling exposed and powerless in his presence.

"Excellent," Mr. Reynolds said with a smile as he snapped a few more pictures of her with his phone. "Why don't have a seat and take your first spin. Isn’t this exciting?"

Amanda's hand shook as she reached out and spun the pointer on the board. Her heart raced with anxious anticipation, silently pleading for it to not land on any of the really degrading options. The spinner whirled around in a blur before slowing down, crossing over into the space labeled "Fuck Ass." Amanda's whole body trembled at the thought, but just as it seemed like it would stop there, it barely slid over the line and settled on "Spanking." Amanda released a breath she didn't realize she was holding and let out an audible sigh of relief. Her body visibly relaxed and she closed her eyes, grateful that she had escaped the more humiliating fate.

A sly grin stretched across Mr. Reynolds' face as he remarked, "Well isn't that fitting, given how naughty you were yesterday." His voice was smooth and controlled, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Now why don't you make your way over to that cabinet," he said gesturing towards a tall piece of ornate cherry furniture in the corner of the room, “and select a paddle."

Amanda's eyes flicked nervously between Mr. Reynolds and the cabinet, her stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. On unsteady legs, she stood and slowly walked over to the imposing piece of furniture. Her entire body was trembling as she opened the doors, revealing an array of implements that made her breath catch in her throat.

Lined up neatly on the shelves were paddles of various sizes and materials - wood, leather, even one that appeared to be made of clear acrylic. There were also riding crops, floggers, and other items she couldn't even name. The sight made her knees weak. She looked over her shoulder at Mr. Reynolds with an expression of fear.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, there is no wrong choice," Mr. Reynolds called as he moved himself over to sit on the leather sofa, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Amanda's heart raced as she turned to face the cabinet once more, her eyes widening in shock as she again looked over the implements. She swallowed nervously, the weight of Mr. Reynolds' words sinking in. Her hand hovered uncertainly over the selection of objects before finally settling on a small wooden paddle. It seemed like the least intimidating option among the various implements displayed before her. Holding it tightly to her chest, she turned back to face Mr. Reynolds with a knot in her stomach.

"Bring it here," he instructed.

Amanda shuffled over to the couch, her cheeks burning with shame. Mr. Reynolds took the paddle from her and set it aside.

"Over my knee," he said kindly, patting the top of his leg.

Tears pricked at Amanda's eyes as she draped herself across his lap, her bare bottom raised and exposed. She could feel the rough fabric of his trousers against her naked skin. Mr. Reynolds ran his hand over her tiny butt, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

"You have such a wonderful ass," he murmured. "It's a shame to have to spank it, but naughty girls must be punished."

Without warning, his hand came down on her right cheek. Amanda yelped in surprise more than pain. Before she could recover, another smack landed on her left cheek. Mr. Reynolds alternated between cheeks, lightly spanking as he warmed her bottom preparing her flesh. After several swats, Amanda’s bottom was a beautiful light shade of pink. He took some time and softly, almost lovingly, caressed her bare bottom. Amanda thought, that wasn’t so bad. In fact, she kind of enjoyed it.

"I think ten swats is appropriate. Count them out loud for me," Mr. Reynolds said calmly as the first strike came down catching Amanda by surprise. The paddle connected with her bare bottom with a sharp crack, sending a jolt of pain through Amanda's body. She gasped, momentarily stunned by the intensity.

Mr. Reynolds waited a moment in silence before calmly saying, “I guess that one doesn’t count. We will start again.”

"One, one, one," Amanda whimpered, her voice barely audible.

“Too late, but I am sure you will follow directions this time. And speak up, my dear. I want to hear you," Mr. Reynolds instructed.

The paddle swung through the air with a menacing whoosh before connecting with Amanda's tender butt in a loud, resounding smack. She couldn't help but let out a grunt of pain as the sharp sting shot through her body. “One,” she managed to utter between gritted teeth, trying to steady her breathing as she prepared for the next strike. The room was filled with an overwhelming sense of tension and anticipation as Mr. Reynolds raised the paddle once again, ready to deliver another blow.

The paddle came down again, harder this time. Amanda cried out, "Two!"

Each strike seemed to build on the last, the pain intensifying with every swat. By the fifth strike, tears were streaming down Amanda's face. Her bottom felt like it was on fire.

"Halfway there," Mr. Reynolds said encouragingly, his free hand rubbing her lower back.

The next few strikes came in quick succession. Amanda's cries grew louder with each one, her body jerking involuntarily.

"Eight... nine..."...