I braced myself, though in truth I did not expect too much violence. He hardly knew me, after all; surely he would be cautious. And thus I was not prepared for the stinging blow which landed on the right cheek of my bottom. I gasped. This was a long way past what the occasion called for, surely. Immediately the first blow was followed by a second, on the left cheek. I groaned. It was bad; it hurt, not just when his hand struck, but afterwards too, a pain which had not evaporated when the next blow arrived. He set up a regular rhythm, left right, left right. Soon my bottom felt warm. And sore. But the spanking went on, beyond a game. My bottom was being blistered. If he did not stop soon there would be bruises. What if Henry saw them? What explanation could I give? It would be so humiliatin
