‘Jasper,’ I pleaded. ‘Somebody might see.’
‘What’s the problem? You’ve still got your underwear on. It’s no worse than a bikini on the beach.’
Objectively, perhaps he was right, but it certainly felt several times lewder. Goosepimples rose on my thighs and belly and what I could see of my skin from my taut position was milky blue in colour.
‘I can’t have you freezing, though, can I?’ said Jasper, moving behind me.
I heard the snapping of twigs and I tried to twist my neck to look over my shoulder, but he was out of my line of vision.
/> ‘This’ll warm you up.’
I felt something held to my bottom, over my tight-stretched cotton knickers. Several somethings, in fact. A bunch of rods. A switch.
‘Oh, no,’ I moaned.
‘Don’t worry. They’ll break off within a few strokes,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Winter switches are the worst. But you’ll be nice and warm until then. All right, then. This is for running off and making me worry about you.’
A dry snap of pain landed on my rear. He was right. It did make me forget about the cold.
I danced on the balls of my feet, hissing out my pain.
Three more followed, hot on its tail, and mine.
‘And these,’ he said, prodding my welts with the tips of the switch, ‘are for snowballing me. Horrendous disrespect, madam!’
Six hard strokes were laid on, some of them catching my bare flesh below the knicker elastic. The sting scorched through me, tightening my skin and making me feel every raised line he created.
‘It hurts,’ I sniffled.
‘I bet it does.’
The voice that spoke was not Jasper’s but Trix’s. I spun around on my rope, trying to conceal the rudest parts of me from her gaze, but I knew it was in vain. She stood on the kitchen step, wearing a fluffy bathrobe and slippers, clutching a mug of tea for warmth. Her smile was a little cold, but her eyes were faraway, dreamy.
‘Ah, Trix,’ said Jasper. ‘I hope you slept well.’
‘Like a top.’ She laughed. ‘But perhaps that would be more appropriate for you or Dimitri.’
Jasper appreciated the joke. He showed this by whipping another hard stroke down on my bottom. My knickers were beginning to cling to my skin now, tricked into thinking we were experiencing sweltering weather rather than snow.
I gasped, then wailed, then tried to work out why I was not as bothered by Trix’s voyeurism as I might have expected to be. It felt OK, being watched by her. It felt more than that, in fact. I felt … proud. How odd.
Another stroke soon converted the pride to suffering again.
‘She’s done this before,’ said Trix.
‘Oh, yes,’ agreed Jasper. ‘Never on such a cold day as this, though.’
‘I could do with a warm-up like that,’ said Trix wistfully. ‘House full of spankos and my own bottom remains whiter than white. Oh, the irony.’
‘Why don’t you … join me …?’
The words were out of my mouth before I knew it. I had really, actually, just invited another woman to be whipped by Jasper.
‘Well, I don’t mind if I do,’ she said, her mournful tone quite absent now. ‘But I think that’s Jasper’s decision.’
He gave the hardest stroke yet, making me kick against the pain.
‘Yes, Trix, you’re quite right. It’s my decision. Sarah, this isn’t like you. Are you sure?’