I do not scream,although a sharp gasp is torn from me. My small victory. Sweat breaks outover my body. Again the cane touches my arse, again the swish...and the fireagain the gasp. And so it goes, the touch of the cane contracts my musclesbefore the agony of the stroke. Somewhere about the tenth stroke I can controlmy self no longer, I scream, hear a small noise of satisfaction as he acknowledgesmy surrender. Sweat pours from me; I feel it trickle between the cheeks ofmy arse, strange that in all. This was a bit messy, and I was careful to use the rag that I had previously used for this purpose to absorb the mess. I would wash it out later. After cleaning and oiling the bores, and wiping the pistols down to remove any residual black powder residue, I reassembled the pistols. The cylinder with two empty chambers was reloaded after it was replaced in its pistol.I was finished in a short time and undressed to shower, as Chanthra was already finished. The water in the jar was semi warm but. More

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