‘Sometimes,’ said Richard. ‘With a heavier implement I usually would. The cane? Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes you want her to feel the full impact, no holds barred. Sometimes you just want a bit of sensation play. But this strap is probably OK to use without one. It’s not the worst weapon in the armoury by a long chalk.’
God, what a pair of geeks, Lucy thought, exasperated now. Spanking geeks. The worst kind.
‘It’s more a tawse than a strap, though, isn’t it? With the split tail. I thought they were pretty fierce. Never used one myself,’ Rob disclaimed.
‘It’s not the same thickness as a classic tawse, and it’s more supple. It’ll sting rather than pack a real punch. You’ll see her bum turn slowly red, but there won’t be bruising or welts.’
‘Nothing better than watching a bum turn slowly red,’ said Rob appreciatively.
Lucy begged to differ. Well, she didn’t beg out loud, because she knew exactly where that would get her, but she thought about it.
‘Perhaps you’d do the honours with the camera,’ suggested Richard.
‘Glad to. Totally.’
Rob came to stand on the other side of her.
‘Do you mind?’ he said.
‘Go ahead.’
She felt Rob’s hand on her bottom, stroking it gently, over the curve and downwards, his fingers dancing delicately on her inner thigh.
‘What’s good about this,’ said Richard, ‘is that she’s already come twice. I think it hurts more when she isn’t very aroused to begin with. I sometimes make her come before I punish her for that very reason.’
‘That’s a very good point,’ said Rob. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘I think this weekend is going to be very productive. We’re learning a lot from each other already.’
Lucy grimaced. This was the kind of information she felt didn’t really need sharing.
‘OK,’ said Rob, stepping back. ‘I’ve got the camera set up. I think we’re ready to go.’
‘Lucy,’ said Richard. ‘I’m going to ask you to count in the usual way. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
At last it was going to start. The sooner it started the sooner it would be over with.
The first stroke lashed down, catching her under the curve of her bottom, snapping sparks from her skin. It stung, but it was a pain she always relished, a kind of sharp, exquisite tang. It was there and gone in a second and it took its time to build up into a sustained burn.
‘One, sir, thank you, sir.’
‘We didn’t decide how many, did we?’ said Richard, laying on the second.
‘Two, sir, thank you, sir. No, sir.’
He laid two more very quickly, so that she had to count them together.
‘How many do you think, Lucy?’
There was a form answer to this question.
‘As many as you think necessary, sir. Ow! Five sir, thank you, sir.’
‘That’s right. So I’m considering this now.’
The sixth stroke was very hard, right across the centre of her bottom. She rocked a little and curled her toes, but breathed through it.