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shirt off, folding it and placing it beside her clothes before retrieving the black PVC pipe. He pulled the cane from the black pipe and walked behind her without fanfare.
    The mirror allowed her to see him raise the stainless cane, such a beautiful instrument, reflected in the mirror, like a wand of light emanating from his fist instead of a solid piece of steel. She could tell he wasn't using a lot of strength as it descended towards her ass, which was why she was so shocked at the level of pain that hit her brain when the signal finally managed to get there. If she'd sounded like a wounded animal before, it had been a wounded rabbit. She sounded like a wounded bear now, a grizzly bear with a fatal wound, and she couldn't stop the noises coming out of her mouth. She desperately wanted him to rub her ass, but was terrified it would only hurt worse if he did. When she next opened her eyes he was squatting in front of her, so their faces were on the same level.
    “You won't speak another intelligible word, will you?”
    She shook her head no, quickly. Too fast, it almost made her dizzy.
    “Punishments from me are generally quick and to the point. It's over now, we're good. You've got four more strokes of the flogger coming to you. You'll get them all at once. Nod that you understand.”
    She shook her head no; she couldn't take four strikes of anything right now, her ass fucking hurt .
    “Good girl. Honesty is good. I'll rub your back for a minute while you deal with the pain. I'm happy you told me you weren't ready yet, I need to trust you'll let me know these things. Do you know why I'm not rubbing your ass? No words, yes or no with your head.”
    She knew. He wasn't going to give her relief from punishment. And she respected him for it, too. She nodded her head and he smiled before standing up and rubbing her back, soothing her, calming her down. He rubbed her back for a while before coming back to her ear with his mouth. “Four more, two at a time, use your hands if you need to.”
    He stood behind her and gave her two strokes in a figure eight pattern. They hurt, but nowhere near as bad as the punishment stroke had hurt, and her endorphins were now geared to the punishment stroke. Interesting. He must have noted her reaction, because she could see him using his back and arms to really lay into her for the next two strokes, and the scream that came out of her throat attested to the pain.
    She saw him walking back to his bag, draping the flogger over it before picking up the PVC pipe and removing a rattan cane. Not the thin whippy kind, but not a terribly thick one, either. She knew it would hurt, and if he hit too hard he could split the skin with it, but she was pretty confident he had enough skill to keep from doing that. She could do this. She'd taken more than ten strokes with this kind of cane before. And the flogger had actually been quite a warm up. Perhaps not a traditional warm up, but it had gotten her endorphins flowing nicely.
    “You don't look worried.”
    He said it as a statement, not a question, and she had no way to answer him. She wasn't about to nod yes or no, then she had an idea. She looked at her hand and moved her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, which she hoped showed him she was a little worried, but not super worried. He looked at her hand and looked back at her face. She couldn't read him, wasn't sure if he was amused, ticked off, or pleased.
    He gave her four strokes, working his way down her ass so they didn't overlap, with time to recover between each stroke. She knew he was hitting her as hard as he dared without damaging her skin, but she could handle it, so she didn't signal red or yellow. She was used to this, she could take it. When the fourth stroke was over he put the cane back and brought out one with a bigger diameter. This cane scared her; she knew how this one would feel, too. She could take it, but not at the strength she could take the smaller diameter.
    “Ah, you're