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“What kind of reading?”
When I don’t answer right away, he strikes me again and again. I grunt each time.
“Erotica,” I spit out.
“What else did you do?”
“Surf the web.”
“For what?”
“Snowboarding videos.”
“Anything else?”
I hesitate, then yelp when the cane bites into me.
“Porn,” I mumble.
A few audience members snicker.
“Sounds to me like you were a bad girl, not a good girl. Isn’t that right, princess?”
“Yes.”
He grabs my toes and pulls them back. Oh no. Just as I fear, he whacks my foot. I cry out. I hate bastinado.
“What kind of porn did you watch?”
He’s already made me confess that I watch porn in front of everyone, I’ve got to provide details too?
He strikes my poor feet several times. I change my mind. I don’t like this position.
“BDSM.”
“Describe one of the videos you saw.”
“It was, um, a story about a thief who break into a woman’s home.”
He starts playing with my clit. “And?”
“And he ties her up and takes advantage of her.”
“Did she like it?”
His fondling is very distracting, and he gets my attention by snapping the cane on my foot.
“Yes and no. Mostly yes,” I answer.
“Did you wish you were her?”
“Yes.”
“Were you jacking yourself off while you watched?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Another bad girl activity.”
