Whipped

“I don’t like that attitude.” said Hannah, “Go downstairs and bend over the couch…I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Not good. I’d just been whipped a day or two ago. Didn’t matter.

“I want you to do as you are told. No ifs or buts. And there really is only one way you’ll learn.”

Hannah had, thankfully, only a limited space for her back swing but she used every inch of it as she striped my bottom with twelve medium hard strokes of her rattan can in quick succession. After five I was up on my toes and at nine I began to moan as she relentlessly whipped me. At last it was over.

“This cane is too curved. I want it straight. Soak it and have it straight by morning. Now, thank me for your correction.”

I got to my knees and said, “Tahnk you for my whipping Dear Lady. I love you.”

“Well get up and pour my wine.”