THE PURPLE ROOM

Extract

 

But in the event, it was the girl using the words. It was the girl speaking to her as she laid that hybrid cane on. What Jayne liked was the noise the cane made as it whooshed through the air before contact with Camille's flesh - there was this 'urgency' to the noise that was then cut short as the 'crack' came. And what was impressive was that Jayne had measured each and every stroke on the area of thighs above the stocking tops, leaving the juice stained nylon of the stockings intact - perfectly intact - which was more than could be said of the flesh of this woman. 30 strokes in and Camille was sobbing. She was openly sobbing and now the strokes had moved up over her ass. Jayne had left the sweet spot. She was leaving that for the final 25 strokes of that hybrid cane. For now she was caning this mature woman's bottom in a measured and total way. Not rushed, not in the least bit under any pressure. She was taking her time - as though she wanted to do a 'good' job. As though she didn't want to fuck up her own prescribed punishment of this woman.

When Jayne did pause, when she did take time out, which she did often, she came to the side of Camille and she stroked the woman's breasts - either one or the other depending what side she was on. She would simply stroke the breasts that were hanging, udder like. And to finish off her stroking she would just lightly, ever so lightly grip the stem of the erect nipple and give them a little squeeze. She liked to do this - to an extent Jayne was obsessed with Camille's breasts. It was the almost ponderous size of them. The volume of the breasts and then the teat like quality of the nipples. The thickness of the nipples and the semi-permanent erection of them. The rubber like quality of those nipples was something that fascinated Jayne. She was fascinated with Camille full stop. The fact that she had this older mature woman at her mercy was something that was taking time to settle in Jayne's mind. It was this fact that drove her on. Maybe it was this that was drawing out the sadist in her.

And there was no doubt that there was a unique sadism in this girl. The way she used that cane, the way she 'forced' Camille to retain that pose by using the coin as a prop that she could not drop or there would be dire consequences. She was liking the whole process - she was already thinking ahead to how she could further this woman's torment in more sadistic ways. She was already recognising her own arousal at the abuse of this woman and it was this arousal that was driving her on. She was liking the noises that Camille was making. They weren't noises that anyone would expect a mature, stunning woman to be making and because of that it was exciting Jayne.

She stood back and looked at her handy work between strokes with that hybrid cane. She liked the constant motion of Camille - like a little dance from one stiletto heel to the other and there was this 'natural' elegance in that little dance. It was something that Jayne could not work out in her mind. Camille looked elegant in that dance but at the same time as she had lost all of her dignity already. Jayne liked the ying and the yang of that. She liked the effort that this woman was putting in and she liked the little noises. She like the fluid movement and yet Camille's nose had to remain pressed to that one spot - that one point on the rubber wall and the coin. Like her head was perfectly still because it had to be and the rest of her was in this fluid, constant movement as she struggled with the pain that the cane was creating at her rear end.

"Not long now Camille, slut! Not long now and you will have received the 75 strokes. The last 25 will be to your sweet spot. And I know you know all about sweet spots. But have you ever experienced the sweet spot? No I wouldn't have thought so. But its close now. Close to when you experience the sweet spot - your sweet spot." There was almost this 'glee' in Jayne's voice that the end of this particular torment was in sight, and maybe this joy that she could then move on to the next predicament for this woman who she had gained complete and total control over. Camille was still making this noise that was unbecoming of a woman of her maturity and status. But it was because of who she was that the noise was 'sexy'. It was a sexy noise to Jayne and now between her legs she was saturated. She was wet and she could feel it and she knew why she was wet. This didn't bode well for Camille. It didn't look like this was a short ride of power for Jayne - something that she would experience and then move on from. The girl was being sucked into that sadistic world again - but when she had been in it before she had been the victim. She had been the one tormented - but now she was the sadist and she even thought that very fact, 'I am a sadist' and even that thought excited her. Excited her between the legs. Excited her a lot.