“Five pounds says she asks for it harder before you finish,” Jayne offered.
	“Someone this new? No way. You have a bet.”
	I picked up the whip again and approached Cathy, telling her to turn her back to me.
When she was facing the other way I waited. She was bracing herself, trying to anticipate
and I couldn’t have that. So I waited, maybe five minutes or more. Give her her due, she
stayed silent. Then I struck, cracking it across her buttocks. She screamed out as she
realised what had happened, arching her back against the sting. All that did was have the
effect of pushing her shoulders back towards me, which is exactly where I aimed the next
shot. I stood back and waited for the two red weals to appear as she quelled her sobs and
braced herself for more.
	“Do you like it, Cathy?” I asked.
	“No,” she said, shaking her head.
	I lashed out again, across the tops of the backs of her thighs, making her squeal out
again.
	“You have to learn to call those who punish you Sir,” I told her. “Now, do you like it,
Cathy?”
	“No Sir,” she said quickly, probably in case I reinforced the question with another
stroke. Her head drooped forward.
	Jayne took to her feet and went round to stand in front of her. “If you want to work
here, you have to take worse than this. But it is voluntary. If you ask me, I’ll stop this
now and you can go home. Nobody would blame you.”
	From my position I saw her raise her eyes to look at Jayne and slowly shake her head.
Jayne nodded to me and I struck again, on her buttocks, the lash making a satisfying crack
as it struck. Cathy gasped out as Jayne stroked her face.
	“Again,” Jayne said.
	I struck again, her thighs.
	“Again.”
	This time her back.
	“Turn around, Cathy. Face your Master,” Jayne ordered her quietly.
	I watched as she looked up again and reached a resolute decision. She turned slowly,
using the rope above her for support, until she was full-frontal, the view of her breasts
and pussy making me want to have her.
	Jayne nodded. I struck and watched as a red line appeared across the fronts of each of
her thighs. She nodded again, so I aimed at her belly, and the next time, rather gentler,
across her breasts. Each time she yelped. Her eyes had fire now, a mixture of defiance and
endorphin rush. Jayne stepped away.
	“Time for you to choose where, Cathy,” I told her.
	She looked up at me and turned her back to me again, bending forward the few inches the
rope would allow to stick her buttocks out. I waited a minute or so, then sent a stinger
across them. She flinched, but stayed in position.
	“Again,” said a voice, but this time it wasn’t Jayne, it was Cathy.
	I lashed out again, twice in quick succession. “Remember to be polite, Cathy,” I
warned.
	“Again, please, Sir,” she said.
	“Better.” She only deserved one this time.
	“I think your fiver is at serious risk, Robert,” Jayne laughed.
	“It is?” I replied before turning my attention back to Cathy. “Is that right, Cathy? Do
you want it harder? Tell me.”
	Cathy muttered something I couldn’t make out. I reminded her to speak up with a cut
across her thighs. “I can’t hear you.”
	“Yes Sir, harder, please.”
	Well, I’d lost my fiver. But, ever the gentleman, who was I to refuse a lady? I did as
she’d so politely asked. I hit, harder.
	“Again please, Sir, harder.”
	I raised the whip and struck her buttocks. The crack still echoed as Cathy called out,
“Again, harder, please!” The last word was a drawn-out groan.
	“Enough!” Jayne cut in quickly. “No more.”
	She moved to me and took hold of the whip, her face serious. Cathy sagged, letting the
rope take the strain.
	“She’s gone into what we call sub-space,” Jayne explained. “It’s a bit like a trance
when the endorphin kicks in. She doesn’t know what hurts and what doesn’t at this moment.
We need to bring her carefully out of it.”
	I’d heard of the term before, but never witnessed it. Jayne explained it briefly to me,
telling me that Cathy was obviously a natural submissive to have attained her space so
easily. She got me to help her untie Cathy and I carried her to the lounger as Jayne went
inside to get more tea. Cathy seemed quite lucid, quite contented, if a little far away.
When Jayne returned and sat on the lounger at the side of her, Cathy allowed her head to
be cradled to Jayne’s breasts as she stroked her red hair and made shushing noises. The
euphoria lasted perhaps an hour and when she came out of it she told us she felt sore,
used and very peaceful. She wanted to look at her back and bottom in a mirror, so Jayne
led her up to the bathroom.
	It had been some day and it wasn’t over yet. The sun shone down on that perfect garden
as I lay on the lounger and drifted into a wonderful, peaceful sleep.