Free The Bottom Line by Emma Savage

Justine confirmed. ‘But when it’s your turn to be punished you will step off the lower rung and support yourself by your hands alone. Is that clear?’
    Caroline gulped. ‘Yes, Miss Dewberry.’
    â€˜If you need to have your wrists secured to help you hold on, that will be possible. On the other hand, if you can take five strokes without releasing your grip you will be spared the sixth stroke. Is that equally clear?’
    â€˜Yes, Miss Dewberry,’ said Caroline again.
    â€˜Very good, girls,’ said Justine, turning back into the centre of the gym. ‘Now the order will be as follows. Six strokes to Melody first, and then four to Gail and three to Caroline. Then the last six to Melody and the fast four to Gail, and we’ll all witness whether Caroline can get away with only five strokes.’
    Once more she took out the remote control and pressed a button on it, then walked purposefully towards the table, collected a stiff leather paddle about twenty centimetres long, climbed upon the stool and looked down at the prostrate form beneath her gaze. Melody’s figure would never have been described as voluptuous, but her bottom stuck invitingly into the air.
    â€˜I suggest you hold the edge of the box tightly with both hands,’ Justine advised. ‘This is probably going to hurt you more than anything else you’ve ever experienced.’
    Melody grimaced, unseen by Justine, and she fearfully clasped the edge of the box as Justine placed the paddle on the left cheek of her bottom and moved it slowly around. Then she removed it, flicked it two or three times through the air as though testing its weight, and brought it smartly down on the target cheek. There was a squeal from the victim. A second stroke and a second squeal followed, and then a third of each.
    Then Justine shifted her attention to the right buttock and slowly repeated the procedure, and as soon as the final stroke had landed Melody meekly moved as though to get up.
    â€˜Not so fast, young lady,’ Justine admonished her. ‘You have another six to come yet, and you’ll squeal a lot more when you get them.’
    â€˜Please, Miss Dewberry,’ squealed Melody, ‘I don’t think I can take another six.’
    â€˜Oh, you can take them all right,’ Justine averred, ‘and you’re going to take them.’
    There was no further comment from a chastened Melody as Justine went back to the table, collected a tawse and then strolled casually to the buck. The tawse was of leather, about half a centimetre thick, the business end divided into five tongues and the whole thing having a well used look. Justine raised it and then let it fall softly onto Gail’s tightly stretched buttocks.
    â€˜I think this is one of my favourite implements,’ Justine mused, ‘although I don’t expect you to agree. It has just the right weight and it makes the perfect sound upon impact, and it creates such a good effect on vulnerable flesh.’
    She brought it down for the first time exactly as the sentence ended, though without excessive force. There was no sound from Gail but the impact of the blow travelled through her body, causing her heavy breasts to ripple seductively.
    The second blow was harder and Gail was unable to suppress a squeal; the third was harder still and the visible effect on her buttocks even more pronounced, but it was not until the fourth stroke that she actually shrieked, a response that seemed to please her disciplinarian.
    â€˜That’s very good, my dear,’ the woman commented, ‘but when I return you’ll get another four strokes like that last one. Do you think you’ll be able to cope with that?’
    â€˜I don’t know, miss,’ Gail admitted, ‘but I don’t suppose I’ll have much choice in the matter.’ The last few words were forced through clenched teeth.
    Justine paused to inspect the damage, a broad,