Tavris finds herself tensing up at the hand at her back, letting her eyes fall shut. It'll be easier, she imagines, if she can't see the cane coming, but she's not prepared for it when the first strike comes, and she bites back a whimper, the faintest squeak coming from her throat. God, that hurts--she doesn't know if she can do this.

"Hh--one," she counts obediently. Seven more to go, but she can hardly ignore the sick warmth between her thighs.