I love a good cold caning and so does the masochist who finds himself strapped into the St. Andrew's Cross in My chambers in London. Decked out in red latex, I waste no time in cracking the cane across his pasty white arse. I want to give him something to remember Me by long after I return to Paris so I set out to leave My mark on him. The welts start coming through at fifty strokes, but I am just getting started with this pain slut. As I continue, there are the stripes definitely appearing across his backside. By the time I get to one hundred, I am as breathless as he is but I decide to give him fifty more before dismissing him as a broken man.