As Sir John came back towards her, he flexed the cane, bending it in his hands, and then swishing it from side to side. The sound filled her with dread, but at the same time she felt a surge of heat between her legs as her cunt told its own story of perverse arousal. Sir John tapped the cane lightly against her behind.
‘What do you say in advance, to the cane?’
She tried to speak through the gag, but what came out was incoherent. There was something humiliating about being reduced to such a mumble.
Sir John spoke for her. ‘Do you say that you honour the cane and willingly submit to its onslaught? Do you say that I may lay it on as I wish?’
She nodded her head.
‘Good girl,’ said Sir John. Cliché that it was in the discourse of domination and submission, this simple phrase never failed
