Free The Bottom Line by Emma Savage Page A

reddish-purple hue visible where each blow had landed, then chuckled as she walked over to the wall bars, pausing on the way to change implements again and to adjust something with the remote control.
    The crop she picked up was about half a metre in length, apparently made of reinforced leather with a long tongue at one end and a shaped handle at the other.
    â€˜But on the other hand,’ she said, still chuckling to herself, ‘this is probably the finest of them all. The cane does more damage, but it’s pretty crude, really. There is nothing crude, however, about this. It is a real piece of craftsmanship.’ As she spoke she cut it viciously through the air, relishing the ominous sound it made.
    â€˜Very well, Caroline, take your feet off the wall bars, if you please, and let your arms take your weight.’ She lay the crop lingeringly across Caroline’s bottom as the girl clung on, her feet no longer providing any support, then drew back her arm and swung the crop firmly across both cheeks, the tongue at the tip lapping round to create a second biting impact.
    Caroline yelped and her body jerked as the blow landed, but despite the instinctive wish to clutch and comfort her burning buttocks she had no real choice but to hang on desperately. A second blow landed, slightly harder and two or three centimetres higher than the first, and Caroline again yelped and jerked involuntarily, but again she managed to cling on.
    Justine stood back as though to judge the effectiveness of her work, then moved to the other side of her victim and placed the crop in her left hand. ‘It’s so useful being ambidextrous,’ she mused, as though to herself, ‘though I’m less accurate with my left hand, so there’s no telling where this will land. On the other hand, I’m not quite so powerful with my left as my right.’
    Whilst speaking she was making practice swings, but then she suddenly struck the girl with immense force, and despite her disclaimer the blow landed with perfect accuracy, and in its wake a dull red line sprang diagonally across the visible weals created by the two previous strikes. Caroline sobbed piteously, but still managed to hold herself up on the bars, even though her arms quivered uncontrollably with the strain.
    â€˜Very well, Caroline,’ Justine said to her, ‘you’ve done very well so far. You may rest your feet again on the bars until it’s your turn for the second round.’
    She returned to the box, moved the stool to the other side and climbed on it again. The blotchy imprint of the paddle, and particularly the two rounded corners, could be seen on Melody’s bottom.
    â€˜Let’s just get this focussed properly,’ she said, still apparently talking to herself and pointing the remote control towards the camera angling down from a corner of the gym wall. ‘Right, that’s better. You wouldn’t want me to forget you, I’m sure.’
    Melody said nothing, but gritted her teeth and waited for the restart of the ordeal, certain it would prove too much for her but knowing equally that she could do nothing to stop it from happening or to make it easier. She tensed her buttocks as Justine laid the paddle against her right cheek and then held her breath as she felt it being lifted. There was a blur of movement, a sharp crack, a shriek and a further movement as Melody tried to raise herself from the top of the box, but Justine simply pressed firmly down on the small of the punished girl’s back.
    â€˜No, my dear,’ she gloated, ‘you’ve another five to come. One more on this side, two on the left, and then we’ll finish with two smackers across the middle.’ She delivered the next blow and Melody continued to sob, and the next two strokes, across her left buttock, prompted only temporary variances to the pitch. There was then a long pause as Justine returned the stool to the other side of the box,