CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

James didn’t say a lot after that. He looked weary as he picked up my legs once more and rubbed the tender flesh of my ass, noting that I winced as he did so. He warmed the area up with his hands for a good few minutes before I felt compelled to speak. I needed to get this over with.

“Do you still want me to count?” I whispered. If he did, I was in trouble - I had no idea what number we’d ended on, and the thought of going back to the start was unbearable.

“No. This finishes when you cry. You can either look at it as a personal challenge to have the sorest backside in the UK, or you can give me what I want and then try to get some sleep. It’s up to you, Lois. It’s four am now, but I can and will go as long as it takes to get you to that place.”

“I don’t want to go there,” I whispered. It wasn’t the pain I was frightened of, it was the tears. Once they started, it was almost impossible to stop them.

“I know you don’t, Lois, which is why I’m being upfront with you. You need to go there