“So, my reckless brat, are you ready?” His voice came out of the blue. She hadn’t heard him enter the room, and she jerked around startled.
“I’m not yours,” she told him, the rejoinder coming out almost without thinking.
“For the next half hour you’re mine, at least this ass end of yours is.”
She looked down to his side and noted the two ghastly looking implements he carried in his left hand. He clutched the wide leather razor strap in the middle, the two sides dangling on either side so it appeared a good three feet long. Clutched along side the leather was a bamboo cane, polished and slightly frayed at the end, like it had been used a few times before. She’d endured the kiss of leather on her behind, plenty of times, but never something as vile and dangerous looking as the bamboo
