Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Well, Renee,” he said, the cruel little smile once again on his lips and his voice soft and patronizing, “I am, in fact, going to go very easy on you with the cane this evening. I want you to understand that it’s not out of pity for you, or affection for you, though. I’m going to give you three quick strokes because it’s been a long evening already, and I want to spend the majority of our time up here in front of these kind folks fucking you.”
Something about the tone with which he delivered these words scared me terribly, despite the very welcome news that he meant only to cane me three times. I gasped, and despite myself I started to struggle against the straps that secured me to the horse.
Master Hendryk shook his head slowly, clucking softly with his tongue.
“No, my dear,” he said. “You mustn’t try to get away. What will your training master and your dean think?”
He stepped to the side, turning so that he could keep his grip on my hair while making me look at Master G and Miss Charlotte, still standing stage right, their faces grave.
“Good girls,” my owner continued, “stay in place for their masters, even when their masters must punish them very severely. If you can’t do that, you’ll have to be restrained whenever the time comes for me to enjoy you.”
I felt my face twist into a sob of shame. I tried to find somewhere to look besides at Master G or Miss Charlotte, but the only place my eyes seemed able to go was to the screen on that side of the stage, where I could see, in a close-up that made the picture four or five times life-size, my bare bottom. Thanks to the parting of my knees on the horse, I couldn’t help seeing the cleft of my pussy, too, waxed smooth according to the Institute’s rules, the pink inner lips just peeking out between my paler outer labia—paler, but still mortifyingly rosy with the stimulation Master Hendryk had forced on me.
He let go of my head at last, and as I tried to twist my head to get a glimpse of him, I heard him move back behind me. A tiny sob of fear escaped my lips. I turned my face forward again and saw that the image of my bottom had pulled back a little to show Master Hendryk, holding the cane in his right hand again and tapping it on the left.
I watched him lift it higher, and then I saw it laid across my bottom and felt it at the same moment. I tried desperately to pay attention to my breathing—Master G had taught me that punishment was one of the best times to use the technique, since it could keep a girl from tensing up and bruising much worse than she did when relaxed.
This man doesn’t care about that, I thought with a shudder. He’d rather make it hurt worse.
Master Hendryk tapped the cane on my bottom. My breath in through my nose came much faster than I wanted it to. I couldn’t hold it in before releasing it, the way I should.
He put his left hand on the belt that crossed my back.
“Oh, no…” I whispered. It had all started to happen much too fast. Even as I breathed my words, I watched my master, on the screen, raise the cane high—all the way to shoulder height. “Oh…” I started, but I didn’t even get to no.
I had always told myself, when I had seen fellow concubines caned, that the scariest part must be the sound. My heart seemed to jump out of my chest when I heard the whistling of the rattan through the air behind me, rather than some other girl. My body tensed despite every effort I could make, and I let out a cry of fear before I even heard the other sound. That one—the horrible thwack—had made me whimper softly to myself even when kneeling to watch a friend receive her old-fashioned lesson in obedience.
Even over my cry of fear, though, I heard the impact, the sharp sound that ended the whistle, and then, a nanosecond later, I felt it—the fiery line across my poor bottom that for a tiny moment didn’t seem so bad, and then seemed almost bearable, and then… just as I saw Master Hendryk, on the big screen, raise his arm again and start to bring it down with terrifying rapidity, and I heard the cane whistle through the air a second time… just that first stroke made me gasp in pain before the second one even made its horrid noise.
It landed just below the first one, and I watched my bottom on the screen squirm desperately, my cheeks clenching in a vain attempt to soothe away some of the pain. It built even as the red double line of the first welt my master had inflicted became terribly clear, its searing agony more intense.