‘Go on. Do as you’re told.’
I was galvanised. I pushed my fingertip against the black rubber flange, feeling how Sam’s flesh and muscle shifted under the pressure. He gasped again.
‘Now, Vix, I want you to go round to the other side of the stool and make sure he keeps his eyes open while I’m caning him. Sam, you have to keep eye contact with Vix at all times. Is that clear?’
‘Clear, ma’am,’ he said, and I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to keep his orgasm back much longer. He was red-faced and sweaty, and his eyes were glazed with a kind of tormented joy.
By the second stroke, he had come, in a welter of little sobs and sighs.
I gave him an encouraging smile, but he just stared at me, his eyes almost popping out of his head.
Shona, absolutely without pity, continued to the twelfth stroke, and then held out the cane to me.
‘Want to give him one for luck, Vix?’ she asked.
My jaw dropped.
‘I’m … not sure.’
‘Either he gets the thirteenth stroke or you do,’ she said, smiling sweetly. ‘Which of you is it to be?’
‘Give it to her, ma’am,’ said Sam, suddenly finding his tongue. ‘She deserves it. She’s been making fun of me all through my punishment.’
‘Vix?’
I nodded slowly.
‘I’ll take it,’ I whispered.
Sam rose stiffly from the stool and went to stand, at Shona’s direction, in the corner, his hands clasped over his striped bottom, kneading it compulsively.
As for me, I replaced him, the room swooping around me as I positioned myself as correctly as I could, my cheap net petticoats flaring out around my upthrust bottom.
Shona scooped them up clear of the target area, leaving it bared and ready.
‘No knickers, Vix – did you forget?’ She stroked the naked curves, making me tingle.
‘No, ma’am,’ I admitted.
‘You did it deliberately? Well, you certainly do deserve this then. Just the one stro
ke, to give you a taste. Hold tight.’
I held tight. In the corner, Sam twisted his neck to look at me, despite orders, and I looked steadily back at him, glad to have a witness.
Shona tapped the thin shaft of wood against the centre of my bottom, lightly, consideringly, sizing up her tactics.
I clung tighter and uttered a silent prayer. Just do it.
With a swish and a thwick, the stroke landed. I waited for it to hurt, thinking perhaps this was all a con and it didn’t really, but true knowledge followed, with an unbelievable burn.
‘Oh, my God!’ I wailed, clutching the long line of pain in both hands.
‘That’s what horny little maids get,’ said an amused Shona. ‘Don’t forget it. Sam, would you go to the bathroom and freshen up for a minute or two?’
Sam, rather reluctantly, shuffled off, retrieving a pair of clean boxer shorts from his backpack en route.
Shona took my hands away from my bum and traced the stripe with a gloved fingertip.