Eva moved her head and her hair pulled and stung her scalp. The pain was perfect. She'd no idea exactly what Jamie had done, but guessed he'd snagged her hair, probably on purpose when he blindfolded her.

"Green, Sir." They'd used the conventional safe words before, and she had no reason to think they'd want to change them. And she was happy, even if the thought of someone looking through the window and seeing her ass upwards and bare, worried her a bit. It also, if she were honest, excited her, and increased her arousal.

"Good. Stretch you arms out and grasp each wooden pole at the corner." Eva did as she was told and something which felt remarkably like the tie-backs for her kitchen curtains fastened her arms out wide to the corner of her Knole sofa. Was that why she'd been so sure she wanted that kind of seating? Whatever, it worked well. Her heart was beating faster than usual, and her mouth was dry as she waited to see what would happen next. The mantelpiece clock ticked off each second, and outside a pheasant called to its mate. Apart from that all she could hear was her own breathing.

Jamie, she had to assume it was him, and not A. N. Other, kicked her legs apart and then something cold touched each ankle, before her scarred ankle was wrapped in toweling and whatever it was fastened tightly with cord or some such thing to both ankles. Eva wriggled her toes and flexed her legs as best she could and discovered her feet were held about eighteen inches apart. What on earth had he used? Then she thought about the shape of whatever it was on her unbroken ankle. Her overlong fire irons?

"Such handy, everyday items you can find when you look," Jamie said, and stroked each globe of her ass. He pulled the back of her thong hard and up into the crack and did a seesaw movement with it. It really did feel like the proverbial cheese grater. Luckily he stopped before she decided it was sawing her in half.