The whisky glass hung from the blood-red tips of her fingers. "But the asshole is too arrogant to see his mistake. All he has to do is look at himself..."Almost physically hit by the vehemence of her words he let his eyes go down over his body, inspecting his spotless white shirt and khaki slacks, his leather boat shoes."Turn," the woman said, addressing him directly. "Turn around. What do you see?" He turned, studying what was behind him – confused. Then he saw, and he understood. A rush of. It thencontinues back up the other heel to my buttocks again.Flinching I try to pull away from this odd caress. Whatis it that the Mistress is touching me with? As if shewas reading my mind she tells me.“In case you were wondering what this is,” she saysonce more continuing the slow caress of my thighs andbuttocks, “it is a little friend of mine called a cane,that I use to remind forgetful slaves of their place.”Just as she finishes speaking she lifts it away from. More

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