I watched his buttocks ripple and
heave in response to the cuts. I was
shaking, quivering at the edge of an enormous orgasmic abyss, barely able to
stand. Toward the end he strained
against his bonds, clearly seeking any molecule of relief that might be
available, and there was none. Mistress
was punishing him now. The foreplay had
been fun, but this was something far more serious. At the twenty-seventh cut of the rattan cane
we heard him whine slightly and I was about to intervene, but then the magic of
S & M washed over him. You could see it!
Mistress Mary whispered, “He’s transcending.”
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