“You shall stand, and bend over my desk, Miss Christine.”
Chrissie got up, surprisingly obediently Eleanor thought. She bent over the desk, as instructed.
“Miss Eleanor, you have been most patient. Do take a seat.”
This evening was full of surprises for Eleanor. She sat, and watched Chrissie and her Master. Chrissie. Her Master. Eleanor suppressed a pang of jealousy; she was taking all of his attention. She always strove to be the centre of attention. She reconciled herself with the thought that his behaviour would undoubtedly deter her from asking again; had this been his plan? She would never ask again, and wouldn’t keep pestering her when they got together. They could have coffee, lunch, dinner with no inquisition.
Eleanor watched her Master at work; she had always been on the receiving end, and had never watched the care he took; with his cane, flexing it gently beforehand; with Chrissie, speaking softly to her encouragingly, gently putting her into position with her hands supporting her off the desk.
“It may be best if your raise your dress,” he said.
Without replying, Chrissie pulled up the hem of her dress, revealing her bottom. Eleanor was relieved she was wearing tights and not stockings, as he would certainly have had something to say about that too.
He rested the cane straight, gently against her buttocks. He moved it around a little, as though feeling through the cane for a particular spot. Then he stopped.
“You will receive six strokes,” he said. “I want you to count them, and thank me for them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Chrissie replied.
He waited a few moments before beginning to give a few very small taps, warming Chrissie up ready for the first stroke. Suddenly, the cane moved away, and then returned. Eleanor noticed he applied the cane with a sharp wrist and hand motion, and not with the full arm swing she thought he gave. Chrissie moved slightly in response, but to her credit stayed in place.
“One, thank you sir,” Chrissie said softly.
Eleanor saw him smile, before he began the process again; rubbing around the target area a little, with several little taps leading up to the stroke.
“Two, thank you sir.”
Chrissie stayed still enough; Eleanor was impressed. And I seemed with each stroke, her Master would build up the anticipation by taking longer with the preliminaries before the strike.
“Three, thank you sir.”
Eleanor noticed how He studied Chrissie intently after each stroke, and then during the build-up; Eleanor was again jealous of her getting His attention.
“Four, thank you sir.”
Eleanor wasn’t sure how Chrissie was feeling, but she was growing more and more tense with each stroke. She found herself gripping her hands together tightly whilst watching her Master tease Chrissie’s bottom before the stroke.
“Five, thank you sir.”
Chrissie’s responses weren’t as quick as they’d started off, and she’d begun to take a deep breath before speaking. Eleanor was just getting more and more nervous. She wanted to visit the bathroom, but dare not interrupt her Master in mid-flow.
The build up to the final stroke was even longer. The Master had changed sides, and seemed to be studying the way his cane moved across Chrissie’s backside. All the while, Chrissie kept perfectly still, so she didn’t end up with painful strokes across her thighs, as happened to Eleanor, the first time.
“Six, thank you sir.”
He replaced the cane against her bottom; Eleanor saw Chrissie tense her buttocks in anticipation. He just smiled before replacing the cane in its stand.
“You may stand now.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, a little sheepishly, straightening her dress, recovering her derriere.
“Now you have learned your lesson, you may take your leave.”
Chrissie looked up at him.
“Thank you sir,” she said.
She smiled and nodded at Eleanor, who stood as they left the room. She remained standing until He returned.
“Now, Miss Eleanor. I shall deal with you.”
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