Mistress McKay Pt. 04

And she did. I gasped and moaned a little as I counted through the harder strokes. I was beginning to perspire and tried to focus on my breathing. Deep breath in - whoooshh. Crackkkk! Ngaaah! Release breath, take a couple more, in, out, "Ten. Thank you, Mistress. Please give me another hard stroke."

And she did. Relentless. Waiting twenty seconds after my request for the next so the pain could make its way through and then whoooshh, crackkk, gaaaah, oooohhhhh. "Eleven, thank you, Mistress. Please give me another hard stroke of the cane!" it helped me, I don't know why, to make the longer plea to be caned again. Proving my supplication to her, maybe, and thereby giving me the thrill of the submissive to take what I am being given?

The final stroke, to be fair, was no harder than the previous ones. It certainly had me gasping, and a tear had loosened itself from my eye and was rolling down my cheek. Mistress Dee came to me and wiped it with a tissue.

"You are a brave girl, Lucy, but that does not mean I will spare you." She selected a cane. I heard it but did not see it until she brought it and held it to my face. "Kiss the cane, Lucy, before I use it to beat your poor suffering bottom. I am sure you will be pleased to hear that it is now a bright red colour but there are not too many serious marks across it. I would estimate that your skin would recover from this in just a few days. However, as you know, you have twelve more strokes to endure. Kiss the cane." She repeated, and I raised my head to place my lips on the cane.

A quick peck? A lingering smooch? Neither, but five seconds of homage to the instrument of my suffering seemed about right. She was good, always making me push myself to think about what I was doing and what I wanted to do. Once again, I was to count, thank and beg and to control my voice and outbursts. I had no idea how severe she was going to be, but as it happened she clearly didn't want to break me. 'Always leave them wanting a little bit more' was the expression that came to mind. Theatre more than serious discipline; eroticism more than pain. Yes, she caned me hard, but not enough to make me shriek as she had threatened earlier, and as I came to the end of her allocation, I went a bit stupid.

Whooooshhh. Cracckkkkk. Ngeeee! Yaaaah! Very sore, but I've had worse. "Ten, thank you, Mistress Dee. Please cane me even harder for the next stroke."

She did. "Eleven. Thank you so much, Mistress Dee. Please make the next stroke even harder than that." I meant it. Endorphins racing through me and I really wanted to suffer. This was great and I was approaching orgasm.

"Are you sure, Lucy? A harder stroke will make you bleed. Is that what you want?" Considerate Mistress Dee, but that thought of her making me bleed was too strong to refuse.

"Yes, please, Mistress Dee. Cane me hard and make me bleed!" I almost wept in my submission to this magnificent Mistress. And she did not disappoint. This time I did scream as the cane landed and sent a bolt of agony through me, it also sent a bolt of electricity into my clit and I exploded in orgasm, spraying my cum behind me and letting loose a stream of pee as I lost control of myself. There was a long silence, broken only by my gentle sobs as the euphoria floated me away into subspace.

To be continued.