Left, right, left, right, the cruel strips wandered up my legs. But when she came close to my pussy, the softest of my skin, a switch fell in my head. I cannot describe it any other way, because that is just how it felt. The pain suddenly became secondary. It was part of the cane’s stroke, but somehow my body disassembled the overwhelming reactions of my nerves, stowed away the brutal pain and instead focused on the heat and the rhythm of the impacts. When the cane fell only an inch from my pussy lip and Helen aimed again, I found myself eagerly awaiting the hit, even pushing out my pelvis to make it easier for her to aim. I was wet once again. The last stroke smacked through the air, and I breathed hard, my eyes shamelessly imploring her to keep on. She turned away though, carrying the cane back to the cupboard. But she picked up something else. It was a strip of leather, perhaps two inches wide and a foot long, not counting the rounded handle. “This is my pussy strap,” she. Again and again. Was he truly reading and not paying any attention to me? I kind of felt like a fool for guessing wrong what he was going to do. My face felt warmer, and it was not because of the sun this time. It was merely a bit of self-humiliation. By doing nothing, this guy made me rearrange my thought process. He got me curious, interested. I wanted to know why he didn't do what I predicted. He did have a friendly voice and was polite, so maybe I should try to talk to him? Then I realized something; I was squeezing my book very hard. Why was I that anxious all of a sudden? I groaned and lowered my head."Are you okay?" he asked."Ghk!"He scared me. I didn't deserve this embarrassment. Why did I groan anyway? Now I probably looked like a freak. But, perhaps I was right, he is going to talk to me after all. He was just waiting for an opportunity. That must have been the reason."I'm fine," I said."Okay… Sorry."Sorry? What now? My face was burning even more. I heard him flip another.
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