My slave, as usual, manages to outdo himself with mistake after mistake. Ive run out of patience words are pointless now. Today, actions will speak for me.Im wearing a perfect pink blouse, a short black skirt, and sheer stockings. My hair is tied up in a high ponytail neat, but anything except innocent.And then theres my favorite accessory: my rattan canes. Elegant, lightweight, and painfully expressive.No explanations needed. No raised voice. Every gesture will be a lesson, every strike a reminder.A hundred? Too boring. Too predictable. I dont settle for ordinary numbers: one hundred ten feels far more meaningful. And thats exactly how many hell remember.Few words. One rule.Learn or count.
