“I’m sorry, Mrs Craddock,” I said, taking a new sip of wine to cover my embarrassment.“What do you do for a living?”This was an awkward one,...another source of embarrassment. I suppose I could have lied, but for some reason I said, “I’m between jobs, Mrs Craddock.”“I see,” Mrs Craddock said. To my relief she didn’t sound as if she thought this was a stain on my character, as people so often did. “Girlfriends?”I reached for the wine again. “Er, I’m between girlfriends too,” I said, thinking it. Laughing at my discomfort, he removed the vibe, relief; I had already lost count of the minor climaxes, as well as the two major ones I had had.Can`t see what he`s fetching, the sudden thwack of the cane , tells its own story, as a stripe of fire, leaves its mark on my arse, I jerk in my bonds, before the scream leaves my lips there is a second then a third, whole arse now a hotbed of stripes of pain, four, measured strokes now, five, eye`s watering , six ,seven, must focus, glad I hadn’t worn. More

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