She demanded more and more; more than he wanted to deliver. She cursed him and sometimes belittled his achievements. She was letting her sadistic side...rule, and became increasingly intolerant of his musical shortcomings, as she perceived them to be. “I don’t think you’re trying hard enough!” she declaimed one day. “Stronger encouragement is needed, I feel. Look at this! My father’s old cane. It stings like mad, I’m afraid.” Alan’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Surely she couldn’t mean to? But yes,. The leather braid grew darker as she rubbed the oil in, making it more supple by her ministrations. Keeping it ready.The master didn't use the whip often, which is why it required these weekly attentions. But regular attention had the dual purpose of also keeping her focused on the instrument of her punishment, should she choose to disobey. Disobedience was always a choice, he told her often. A choice she was free to make, knowing the consequences of her actions. A whipping was hers for the. More

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