Then the cane landed, hard and fiery, slashing a new line of pain across my bottom. I cried out while the pain built, and I knew there must be a welt rising there. Did Sir love my marks? I know I would if I were in his position. Perhaps he’d let me cane Lucy, one day, and I could find out. Sir’s hand touched my bottom, gently, where the stroke had landed. “That’s lovely, Maddie. You’ll have that to look at for the next few days.”
But I’m going to have to cut here, though. This has been published and my publishers don’t want free competition from me. You can read it here.