Double spanking

I'm living in a fantasy world at the moment. I've got the house for myself for the past two days and that means... a very sore bottom. It's great!

I've got this historical fiction story going on with three sisters and their father (their mother died when they were very young), set some four hundred years ago in rural Scotland. My favorite character is the youngest sister, a carefree lass whose dream is to become a warrior. Yesterday I was this lass.

Once my home made strap and the bath brush had given me a nice tanning and I'd reached the point where you can do pretty much anything to my butt and I won't flinch, that's when the game begun.

Eileen, the young teen sister aka me, lay on my bed sulking because Jo, the 25 year old sister in charge, wanted her to take in the laundry. But I was busy practice fencing! So I told Jo to sod off and stamped off to my room. I was a bit anxious tho, 'cos if Jo told da I would be in trouble. I heard the door open and saw Jo come in but I didn't look further, just turned my back to her. Jo scolded me for not helping out, escaping my duty and being disrespectful.
"If da was here he would take you to the stable, you know that."
I did. Whenever he thought it necessary to punish either one of us - mostly me, truth to be told - he ordered us to the stable where we were to bend over a fence while he skelped our backside with his belt. Needless to say I was glad he was off to the hills today.

Then Jo lectured me on my attitude and disrespectful behaviour. My belly churned cos' she reached her arm over my turned body and waived the wooden bath brush warningly, and I couldn't avoid seeing it.
"Lower your breeches, Eileen." Jo said sharply.
I flinched, turned and protested that she couldn't beat me, she was not my mother.
"Would you rather take it from me or da?"
That settled it. After having shot her an angry look I thrust myself on my belly and after a moment's hesitation lowered my breeches, which everyone thought was a disgrace that I wore since I was a girl but which I insisted on wearing 'cos it was easier to fight in.

Jo dealt me a sharp SPLAT with the brush on my left cheek, then my right. In a steady pace the sharp SPLATs echoed between the stone walls as Jo warmed my bum. I bit my lip and grimaced and couldn't help squirming from the smarting brush, but I didn't dare move out of the way, I simply pressed myself to the bed and strained my legs in turn.
"Don't you ever use that language to me again, Eileen." Jo reprimanded once the SPLATs stopped.
Tearfully and very solemn I turned my head and apologised, promising I wouldn't. Jo smiled and accepted my apology, then left. I turned my head into the pillow and sobbed, feeling my bottom smart and tingle. I pulled up my breeches and lay there feeling sorry for myself.

A while later (some hours in my fantasy) the door opened again. I didn't turn, thinking it was Jo again.
"Mandy told me some very sad news." Da said.
Mandy was our house keeper and it didn't surprise me that she'd been telling on me. I immediately argued defensively that Fiona, our middle sister, didn't do anything and that I'd taken in water and firewood and needed to practice my fencing and that Jo always asked me to do everything and... Of course, once I took a breath da pointed out that I did very little around the castle and mostly were off on my adventures. He also said that the laundry was the minor thing, but that he simply couldn't accept me being disrespectful to my sister. She was in charge when he was away and I knew it. Of course I did. I bowed my head in shame.

Then I heard something very worringly, I heard dad unbuckle his sword belt. I shot up my head and with my eyes wide open I protested that I'd already apologised and that Jo was fine with it.
"That's all very well, lass, but I still mean to give you a good tanning. On the belly with you."
I protested again but da cut me short by raising his eyebrows and calmly saying:
"Or would you prefer to have it done in the stable?"
I didn't. In the stable everyone could hear what was going on. Sighing deeply I turned on my belly.
"Breeches down, lass." Da reminded. He always punished me on the bare. I angrily lowered my breeches for the second time that day.

There was a pause.
"Someone's been at you already?" Da asked concerned.
"Jo took the brush to me." I muttered.
Da was silent for a moment but then said he was glad she did. He didn't seem to change his mind though, 'cos shortly after his belt smacked down and left a smarting stripe across my bottom. My already sore bottom smarted tremendously with each whack. I sobbed and yelped in my pillow, kicking my feet in agony.

When the spanking was over da told me to take in the laundry before dinner. I nodded in my pillow and sobbed "yes, da" although I still thought it was unfair that I had to do it. But I felt in no position to object. Da left and I lay on my side, sobbing and feeling my behind smart - and felt sorry for myself for the second time that day.

Later in the evening my bottom was still red with crescent shaped bruises after the day's spankings. No fret, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed lying in bed in the evening feeling my sore bottom, playing more scenarios in my head.

Now, the next day, the redness is gone but the crescent shaped bruises are there and my bottom is sore. And as soon as I've finished writing I'll give myself another tanning before I go on holiday. I expect the flight to be a gingerly affair. :-)

Moment of change

Sabina tried to sneak into the house as quiet as possible. Her curfew was fixed at 10 o'clock but today she'd stayed out longer for a reason. This afternoon she fell out on Peter, her foster-dad, leading him to send her out to his office, as usual when it was time for a time out. She'd only been in their care for a week before he realized it was a bad idea to send her to her room. The loud music drove Peter and his wife Mel out to his office, situated in the guest room next to the garage across the patio, and so they thought it better for her to switch house instead. Peter couldn't work while she calmed down, but at least they could be in their own house.

Sabina knew Peter's computer was off limits. Once in a while she pulled the blinds and played some Tetris anyway, but usually she respected the prohibition. This afternoon she'd been so furious she did something terrible – before she could even stop herself. She deleted the whole file with the important in depth articles he'd written for the Gazette. Well, it'd been on the screen when she entered the room and so… one thing led to another.

Therefore she'd made an excuse to leave the house as soon as she was let out from the office and now she hoped she could sneak up to bed and postpone the confrontation until tomorrow. Then she intended to simply deny the whole thing. Peter was such a novice when it came to computers he might just as well have accidentally deleted the file himself.

Sabina locked the door behind her quietly. The old clock in the living room struck 1. Well, the O'Hara's would be fast asleep already. She didn't turn on the light but headed for the stairs. She was just to pass the dinner room when she sensed "something". She stopped and the very same second the light turned on.

The dinner table was covered with paperwork, a tired and disappointed Peter O'Hara leaned to it with his hands in his pockets, in the background a sad Mel sat on a chair.
"Where have you been?" Peter asked in a sad tone.
"Er… out." Sabina replied.
She prepared for an accusing 'what do you know about this' or a naïve 'oh, you wouldn't believe what happened to me today', but instead Peter uttered only one word:
"Why?"

Sabina was taken aback and didn't know what to say. She browsed the table with her eyes. It seemed like Peter was trying to go through the whole paperwork and see if he could remember his articles from the material. Mel gave her a sad look and Sabina simply lost her defence. Peter sure didn't mean 'why have you been out late' but 'why did you do this'. The couple had been so sweet to her the six months she'd been living there she just didn't have the heart to put on the cold mask she usually showed her foster-parents. It felt weird to deny her action when it was clear both of them understood she did it, and they were right about it.
"I don't know," Sabina whispered with her head hanging low, "I was just… I don't know. I'm sorry."
"They were the most important articles in Peter's career. You know how hard he's been working on them." Mel said sadly.
"I'm really disappointed in you, Sabina. I know you were angry with me this afternoon, but I would never think you could do such a cruel thing." Peter added.

Sabina hated it. She wished they could be like the other foster parents she'd had; screaming, accuse her on false grounds, threatening her, throw things at her, get really angry, call her names. That she could deal with, but these two disappointed faces she couldn't deal with. She felt an unpleasant knot grow in her stomach, it was nothing like the adrenaline rush she usually felt when she was caught. It began to feel warm in here and she just didn't seem to be able to lift her head. She didn't know what was happening, but it didn't feel like anything she'd felt before. She even started to regret what she'd done.

"Sabina?" Mel said gently, "What do you say? Isn't there anything you'd like to say in all this?"
Sabina buried her hands in her pockets and shrugged her shoulders. What was there really to say? She didn't even know herself why she'd done it other than she'd been furious at Peter and that the deletion had been an impulse.
"Well," Peter began, "you are a sweet girl, Sabina, and I can see on you that you understand the seriousness in what you did. Although I would of course also like to hear why…"
He gave Sabina a chance to grab the opportunity, but when she didn't, she just began to draw circles on the floor with her left foot, he continued;
"The natural next step now would probably be to announce your withdrawn allowance or you being grounded for the next couple of weeks and then send you off to bed. But I won't do so."

He made a pause. Sabina didn't like the beginning and certainly not the pause. A pause was never a good sign. She prepared for the words to follow; 'we feel that we can't provide for your care anymore, we will terminate the contract'. Sabina prepared for moving, she prepared to run off onto the streets tonight to avoid yet another placement. Peter continued:
"We, well I, feel that there is one thing we've been reluctant to do because of your history. But considering everything that has happened recently and especially after the events of today I now find it inevitable. Before we send you to bed, Sabina, you and I are going out to my office and there I will give you a well-deserved spanking for your behaviour. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Sabina looked up. He said what? Peter looked her calmly straight in the eyes. He wasn't kidding. Mel bit her lips but seemed to stand behind Peter on the issue. Sabina sensed a mix of feelings rushing through her veins. They didn't want to give her up, why not, she'd been terrible? They had considered her in their dealing with her behaviour, how come? Others didn't give a damn, they just fired away without warning, these guys explained that she was going to be punished, why did they do so? She looked foolishly at them for a few seconds. Then she woke up, nodded and began to walk towards the patio door. When she passed Peter he put his hand on her shoulder and went with her. From the table Mel pleaded:
"Peter, please be gentle with her."
To which Peter simply replied:
"I'll give her a spanking, not a massage."

Peter closed the glass door but didn't pull the blinds. Sabina noticed Mel by the dinner table inside the house, and figured she'd keep an eye on the events, before she followed Peter to the couch which stood out from the wall and divided the room into an office space and a guest room space. She felt a bit nervous, but couldn't put her finger on why. Sabina followed every move when Peter unbuckled his broad leather belt, pulled it out of its loops, double folded it and stretched it until it snapped. She swallowed.

"I hope I will never have to do this again, Sabina." Peter said while he tried the grip of the belt. "You are a very special young girl and Mel and I love you very much. But what you did today… Today was the climax of several days of unacceptable behaviour from your side. I know that you understand why I sent you out to the office today and punishing me for punishing you is not the behaviour I expect from you, Sabina. I can not accept that. And I can not accept that you ruin my work. Is that clear?"
Sabina didn't take her eyes from the double folded belt in Peter's hands, but she nodded.
"Ok," Peter continued, "then it's time to get down to business. I want you to unbutton your jeans and lay over the arm rest with your bottom on the edge and then I want you to pull down your jeans and panties."
"Couldn't… couldn't I please keep them on?" Sabina whispered.
"No, it's my firm belief that the belt does its work best on your bare skin."

Reluctantly Sabina obeyed Peter's instructions. She pulled her pants down to right under her buttocks, but Peter wasn't satisfied so he pulled them down a bit further to get a clear shot even to the lower part of her bottom. Sabina was so nervous her lip trembled. She lay flat on the couch with her bare bottom over the arm rest, sticking up in the air. She grasped the cushion with her fingers, lay down her head and waited.

WHAP
Sabina flinched. It stung a bit in her skin, but…
WHAP WHAP WHAP
In a steady pace Peter whacked her bare bottom with the belt. Sabina pressed her lips together and screw up her eyes. The nervousness was gone, right now she just concentrated on the unpleasantly sharp sound when the belt hit her bottom and on the stinging.
WHAP WHAP WHAP
The stinging spread as the belt crimsoned her globes. Sabina's lip trembled and she sniffled. It stung. She so regretted being mean to Peter. He didn't deserve it.
WHAP WHAP WHAP
But she probably deserved this spanking. Sabina sniffled and moaned. Her bottom burned.
WHAP WHAP WHAP
Sabina sobbed in her arms and strained the muscles in her legs. Her skin stung like fire under the belt now.
WHAP WHAP WHAP
Peter didn't hit very hard, but enough to turn Sabina's bottom pink and to create such a stinging to make Sabina sob with pain. She wiggled her bum and locked her own arms under her head to cope.
WHAP WHAP WHAP

Peter stopped. Sabina cried silently in her arms while he put on his belt again.
"Sabina, you can pull up your trousers now." Peter said gently.
Sabina reached back and pulled up her panties. She crawled forward until she lay flat on the couch, grabbed her buttocks and cried softly. Peter felt sorry for her and hoped it to actually be the last time he needed to do this.
"Come here." He said and sat down on the couch. He pulled Sabina to him, scooped her up in his arms and rocked her while she cried into his chest.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She sniffled into his shirt.
"Sch, sch, it's ok." He whispered.
"No, it isn't." Sabina sobbed. "I'm really sorry. I really am."
She sobbed some more and when her voice was somewhat steady she sniffled:
"You guys have been so sweet and I've been so mean. I'm really sorry. I thought you would give me up today, but… I wouldn't blame you if you did. If you want to I'm ok with it."
"Stop it, Sabina. What are you talking about? We wouldn't give you up for the world. Where in heaven's name did you get that from? Huh?"
Sabina sniffled. Her bottom burned and she was careful the keep it free and don't lean on it.
"I just… I don't know… I suppose… others… I wouldn't blame you. I'm such a meanie sometimes. I thought deleting your file would… I understand if you hate me. I can leave if you want to."
"No!" Peter said sternly. "Stop talking like that. We would never want you to leave us. For heaven's sake, Sabina, Mel and I thank higher powers everyday that you walked into our home and our life. You're not mean, sweetheart, you're out of line sometimes, but that's what we try to correct. I didn't spank you because I hate you, don't you ever think I do because I don't, I love you, honey. I spanked you BECAUSE I love you. I want you to behave, that's all. Oh dear, such dark thoughts you carry, my sweet little peach pie."

Peter kissed Sabina's head and rocked her some more. Sabina was confused. How the heck could he NOT hate her after what she did? Her bottom throbbed and she sniffled occasionally. It felt good to be hugged and rocked in Peter's arms. At last they rose up. Sabina pulled up her jeans with a grimace and they walked back into the house, Peter with his arms around Sabina's shoulders.
"You know what," Sabina suddenly said, "I think there's a way to recover the file."
"There is?"
"Just leave the hard drive to the computer guys at work. I think they are able to recover it."
She couldn't see Peter's smile, but she felt him hugging her shoulders. It was probably the first time she'd shown an interest in helping someone. Perhaps it was too early to tell, but something seemed to be about to change.

A night in the castle

Yes, there are some amazing futuristic items in this medieval story. The reason is that it's based on a dream. Well, I suppose I could've adapted it to the time-period, but, hey, I didn't. :-)

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A quick look at my watch and I knew I was in trouble. I took up my bike from the ditch and went off in high speed. I pedaled like crazy and almost crashed with a horse as I turned a corner. I saw the castle from a distance, my watch said it was one minute to eight, in one minute the gate would close. ”Shit”, I thought and increased the speed. I stood up on the bike as I climbed the hill towards the gate, I felt blood in my mouth and panted loudly.

Their was a creaking and clatter as the wind-bridge began to rise.
”Hey, stop!” I screamed, ”I’m coming, hello!!!”
I stopped the bike at the edge and whirled up a cloud of dust as I did so. I waived my arms and tried to make myself heard over the loud noise. Then I saw a guard on the high wall, he seemed to have noticed me cause he bent down and shouted something. The bridge stopped and it was silent a short second before it came back down again. Gratefully I biked over it.
”A little late, I think.” A guard commented when I was within the castle and they could rise the wind-bridge for the night.
”It was football and I forgot about the time. Better sneak inside before anyone notice.” I smiled and tried to catch breath.
”Think they already have,” the guard replied, ”weren’t you supposed to meet Old Gretl an hour ago?”
”Shit!” I pulled a grimace and leaned the bike to the wall, ”Shit, shit, shit!”
The guard laughed:
”Have a feeling someone’s in trouble. Again. Have a feeling someone will have a sore bottom tonight.”
The guards laughed behind me as I strolled off.

I cursed the whole way to Old Gretl’s cabin. The old witch lived in the far corner of the castle and once a week I went to her to learn medicine, cooking, general housework and other things that could be in hand when I grew up. Only that I hated it and wanted to practise fencing or play football instead. But like all girls I had no choice, there were certain things a lady was expected to know. I was almost an adult and my father had begun to worry about me, whether he could find a man willing to marry a girl who was more boyish than himself… I on the other hand didn’t worry at all, I wanted to become a knight and as such a husband would only be in the way. What do you mean a girl can’t be a knight? Well, I guess I’ll be the first then.

The corner was pitch dark except the light coming from the open fire in the wall outside Gretl’s house and the light coming from inside the cabin. I knew there was no point to avoid her, to sneak back home instead of facing my trouble, cause it would only catch up on me later.
”Did you win?” a voice croaked from inside.
I’ve always wondered how she could know who was coming, especially since you tried to sneak up as silent you could.
”Er... mm.”
”Good for you. Hope it was worth the delay. So before we begin today’s lesson – which would you prefer?”
Old Gretl appeared in the doorway and in her hands she held a thick kind of a wooden-spatula, a nine-tailed whip and a carpet beater. I hated it when she made me choose, didn’t she understand it was torture to choose the implement that would hurt you? Or maybe she did. I wished she could’ve chosen a normal spatula, though, this one was so thick it would be like being hit with a piece of wood and I could imagine the bruises from only one stroke. Maybe her bad eyes had made her take the wrong one by mistake, but I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to hesitate for too long either, maybe she decided to choose herself. The whip on my back or the beater on my bottom? Well, a sore back would restrain the whole of me since each move would hurt, with a sore bottom I at least could use the rest of my body… on the other hand, she didn’t use to apply that many strokes with the whip… but it stings… but so does the beater… would I be able to keep my shirt on? And what about my trousers? Maybe I could…
”Hurry up, little miss, I don’t have whole night.”
”Er…I’ll take that one then.” I mumbled and pointed briefly to the carpet beater.
”Ok, then.” She said and disappeared inside to put back the other items. ”You can pull out a chair and place yourself meanwhile.”

The cabin was so small her foreyard was the actual place to be. There was an old oak table with roughly carved chairs in front of the fireplace. Reluctantly, but still habitually, I pulled out a chair and placed it a bit from the table. I lay down over the seat with my bottom at the edge, my feet touching the ground and my hands grabbing the legs of the chair. I only hoped no kids would be on the roofs nearby playing. I hated to have an audience and since we were outside, even in the furthest, darkest corner, people might pop by. If not now, then perhaps when they’d hear the sounds. Even if I managed not to scream or cry too loud, the high pitched cracks from the beater hitting my bottom might be heard. Especially this time of day when it was naturally silent within the castle.

”Oh, no, little miss, pull down your trousers.”
I quickly tried to come up with something good to say, but Old Gretl forestalled me;
”You’re one hour late. A lady is never, ever, late and it’s my duty to teach you that. Pull down your trousers so I can teach you a proper lesson.”
No point trying to object, I could tell that from her voice. I crawled back a bit on the seat and slowly I undid the knot to my trousers and let them fall down. Since my legs were stretched out and not bent the trousers stayed just under my bottom. I had to pull up my shirt as well after I had crawled back into position. My bottom was bare and ready to receive its lesson.

CRACK
I pulled a grimace and drew air through my gritted teeth. The carpet beater hit my bottom with a crack that echoed between the stone walls and after the short second of numbness an intense sting spread over my buttocks. Gretl gave me a second stroke and it felt like my bottom was on f ire. I bit my lips the hardest I could to prevent from screaming, but couldn’t resist moaning. The third stroke brought tears in my eyes. The beater was the size of my butt, so Gretl just had to apply the strokes to the centre of my bottom to make the whole of it burn. The fourth made me start to cry and strain my muscles in an attempt to ease the pain. I received the fifth with a start and cried hard in my arm as the sixth and last stroke fell.
”Now, I’ll go get the things we need for today’s lesson. Can you please get some water for us.”
Old Gretl disappeared into the cabin. Now I was punished and the real lesson was about to begin, no time for recovering in this house. I knew I had a few minutes before she’d come back so I reached back and held my hot buttocks in my hands, rubbed a little and squeezed to ease the sting. I could already feel criss crossed welts. I pulled up my trousers, at least they were loose fitting, dried my eyes with the back of my hands, grabbed a bucket and went to the well.

My sore bottom throbbed and stung with each step, but I could expect no pity from anyone so I'd better not complain about it. I got the water and when I came back the table was full of herbs, leaves, powder and flowers. Medicine-time, I supposed. Old Gretl already sat and crushed some nuts and I slowly, slowly, lowered myself onto the chair on the other side of the table. My bottom throbbed and burned and I really wanted to stand up, but I knew that would be out of question. I’d just have to deal with this. It used to feel better if I pretended it was a war-wound. I wouldn’t sob or whine if I was wounded on the battlefield, would I.

Confessing to the crooks

Funny, sometimes I dream about history. I mean, in the dream I know things have happened in the past and so I think of them in the dream. Once I read that you can't dream in time lines, that it's just "here and now" and that the past and the future doesn't exist. Well, that's wrong. This dream I had shows that. Although I cut the end. In the end it got so warped with us not returning to the kitchen but to an open field, yada, yada. This is the interesting part. In my opinion. :-)
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My brother, sister and I lived with three men in a house. We were not siblings for real, but since we came from different broken homes we felt like siblings in this house. The three men were between 35-45 years old and to be honest we weren’t sure what their jobs were, but I suspected they did something illegal. Never the less, they were kind to us and we regarded them as our fathers.

My experience from families weren’t that bright. My mother was almost never at home. My father was home but usually drunk, always with a short temper. He never spoke to me, unless he shouted at me for making noises or that he wanted me to do something, like bring him a beer. When he felt like it, which he did almost every day, he used to beat me up. Often he used a coat-hanger and beat me all over my body until he got tired. He called it ‘his daily exercise’. If he thought I deserved a punishment he used to tie me so I couldn’t move and then he could punish me the whole day, on and off, with whatever implement he felt like at the moment. No wonder I ran away so often. At last I ended up here.

I’ve heard things about these guys, that they are real crooks and that they can be pretty violent. I’ve heard that the blond guy use to help other crooks to collect debts by beating the owing guy until he hand over the money. At first when I heard these stories I got pretty scared of my ‘fathers’. I didn’t dare to talk to them, yet look them in the face. They noticed and I was scared they would get angry with me for, you know, not talking to them, but they were very sweet. They ruffled my hair and wondered if I’d swallowed my tongue. My 'brother' and 'sister' knew nothing of this and I noticed that they trusted these guys. My sister even used to curl up next to them in front of the TV. Well, slowly I started to loosen up and, really, whatever they might do at their ‘jobs’, they were never mean to us. Of course they could get mad and feel the need to ‘correct’ us, but it was dealt with in no harder nor longer way than necessary and always left, at least me, with a feeling that they didn’t like it but that they felt like they had to. I was not scared of them, just respected them.

This morning I was ready early. I had promised to wait for my sister though, and I waited. And waited. Finally I had to go out in the kitchen and see what took her so long. She just put a toast in the oven.
“What are you doing?! I’m gonna be late!”
“Oh.” She said, “I’m sorry, when do you start?”
“I… I should’ve been there like, NOW.”
“Oh… well, I’m done soon.”
I sighed and took a second look at the clock. I’d begin in two minutes, I was going to be late – again. I got grumpy, took a coat-hanger which lay on the bench and started to play with it to get rid of my frustration.

The men stood gathered around the kitchen-table with a map spread out and one of them turned his head.
“Don’t worry, Angela, everyone can be late once in a while. We’ll just write a note for you. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
I didn’t reply but bent the hook until it broke. They would not understand me. If the men only knew how often I’d been late. May they never find out. They had specifically warned me that if they received another note from school I would be in for it. And I had promised to never be late or skip classes again. Only that the last two weeks I had been late three times and this fourth time would render in a note, no matter what. I couldn’t hide three late arrivals. I looked at the coat-hanger, which now looked more like a stick with no steel details left. My real dad would’ve used this pretty good if he knew… I was glad I didn’t live at home. So why did I hesitate, better get it over with than meet them after they’ve received the note. I took a deep breath.

“Er… I think… you will get a note this afternoon…”
The men stopped talking and I could see their heads turn up from the map and look at each other.
“Really, why?” one of them asked without turning his head at me.
“Because… because I’ve already been late three times…”
No one spoke a word. My sister was to take a bite from her toast but she hesitated, curious about the continuance.
“I’m sorry…” I mumbled.

The blond guy straightened his back, took a deep breath and turned towards me.
“Ok, then. Off we go.” He said and approached me. I swallowed. As he came near me he reached out his hand for the stick that was the only thing left from the coat-hanger. I gave it to him and he walked before me to the next room.

He didn’t close the door, they seldom did. The important thing was not to not be seen by the others, but not to be heard. He watched me as I slowly unbuckled my belt and let my jeans fall to the floor, then I bent over and rested my hands on the seat of the chair in front of me. The blond guy moved into position.
TWACK
The stick hit across my panties and I grimaced from the numb pain. The blond guy gave me a series of about ten strokes on my clothed behind. I bit my lips and tried to stand still. In the end I almost leaned forward to avoid the impact, but the stick found its target. The blond guy stopped and I slowly straightened up and pulled up my jeans, sniffling. I faced him and with trembling lip and tears in my eyes I whispered:
“Thank you.”
The blond guy threw the stick on the bed and put an arm around my shoulders.
“I think your sister is ready now, Angela.” He smiled and walked me back into the kitchen.