Raising his arm, he brought the cane down with a sharp crack right across the middle of Jennifer’s bottom. Holy shit. Jennifer had never felt pain like this in her life. She gripped the desk and ground her teeth to prevent herself from screaming out. Surely she couldn’t take this. She felt the cane return to her bottom and it’s gentle tapping as Julian took aim again. The tapping stopped to be replaced moments later with another searing line of fire right in the crease where her legs met her bottom. A moan escaped her lips and she wiggled her bottom, trying to ease the pain as the cane returned to tapping. Again and again the cane tapped and then struck her poor defenceless bottom. Her head began to swim as her mind and body absorbed the pain. Her sense of self was reduced to existing in the moment as she wriggled and cried out at each stroke, floods of tears streaming down her face as twenty years of pent up guilt poured from her. After what seemed like an eternity, she realised. He must not look down. Keep moving he thinks, inside his breath, inside his nostrils. Behind him scurry tiny bodies, moving in mass, a single body against herself. Against one another, like one thousand innocent blood hungry kittens, or mice, all and at once alone inside themselves eating their own meal, eating one another with very little noise, so little noise in fact that Tristan is not sure if anything is there at all.He looks back.And there, there—his eyes search, but there is nothing. No mice, no varmints; no baby kittens—not even the fresh carcass of the child-sized spider that he had slain.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Three days ago, Tristan journeyed to the home of Orpheus, a modest hut, high in snowy mountains, far from Hell. Tristan made the trek without his faithful slave Pedro, in order to protect the secrecy of his mission. Tristan brought a.
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