I looked at the huge brown bottom on my lap. Her bottom and upper thighs were very red and covered in copious darker red weals from the edges of the l...ather belt. Right where her thigh met her butt, her sit spot, was bruised purple. A few of the weals also had bruised purple. I could actually feel the heat radiating from her inflamed behind. I longed to bury my fingers in the deep crevice of her cheeks but instead undid the jar of cool white cream and dug a good amount out. The minute the cool. In point of fact, I could at that time barely read and knew no language well except my native tongue and a smattering of French.And that is how I presented myself one afternoon on a visit to the Woodhouse manor. We had tea and her father disappeared. I was surprised that he left us alone. Miss Woodhouse noticed my reaction. "Don't mind Father," she said. "He isn't worried about my virtue, sure as he is that I will never yield it to any man."I coughed to cover my amazement."Oh, Lord Northam, I. More

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