Of course, sir. Is that all for you today?
And a thrashing, please.
Certainly sir. Soft, medium or hard?
Medium is fine.
Very well sir, you can go downstairs. Madame Ouch will be there in a minute.

You again, She smiled, you have a big appetite. Take off your clothes, you know the drill.
She tied my wrists and ankles to the St. Andrew’s Cross, which had a huge impact on the lumpia between my legs.
Medium? Really? She mocked.
Forgive me, Mistress Ouch, I said, blushing from ear to ear, I’m a coward, what can I say.
Went for a hard beating a couple of weeks ago and couldn’t sit for days afterwards. My backside looked like a battlefield, it was crazy. So I settled for medium this time, thank you very much. The beating was short (as always), but intense. A bit like your sex-life, I would imagine. But it refreshed my body and invigorated my tired muscles. And most importantly, it reminded me of my place in the bigger scheme of things. I went back upstairs where they handed me my food. I’ll soon be back for more, because this was certainly not a Fu Yung Bye.