It was a wicked rattan cane. Wispy and supple, the sting from a strike took seconds o register and long, long minutes to fade. It was her least favorite, favorite toy. She feared it as much as she loved it. The sensation so strong, so intense, she was always afraid she could not withstand it. She always did, but the fear was too delicious to let go.

"Five for the climax." His voice was so strong, even in his whisper, it rang through her very soul. "Understand?"

She nodded. She knew he was right, she had not controlled herself properly. She tried to concentrate on relaxing her body, letting her ass cheeks go soft to lessen the blow. The excitement however made this quite impossible. She trembled waiting for the first blow to land. That was the worst part, knowing it was coming and having to wait. . . those long seconds dragging on forever as she waited for what was coming.

Finally she fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other in the cold puddle. That was when the first stroke landed. Feather light it seemed at first, the light cane striking across her ass cheeks. Then the pain erupted and that light wispy strike was like a line of fire across her ass cheeks.