Chapter Eleven
At last he was finished. I think, by the time he got to twelve, that I could perhaps have taken a few more without flinching too much. But, as I was later to discover, Mr. Rochester was not only an experienced master of female pain and pleasure, but a perceptive one too. He knew that it is always better to leave the victim wishing for more, rather than giving them too much.
He laid the tawse down and stood behind me, stroking my smarting flesh gently.
“Good girl,” he said. “I am pleased with you. I think I shall be able to train you to be all that I could wish for in a submissive girl.”
Was that what I was? I had not heard this term before, not in such a context. I felt pleased with myself, that I had been able to satisfy him, and that I had not shamed myself by being t
