Penalty strokes

Michael stops the timer and you completely roll off the bench, collapsing into the floor, unable to hold yourself together now that you have failed anyway. Several hands help you up, touching your naked body unceremoniously in the process; somewhere in the back of your mind you hear Michael announcing the penalty strokes to be administered in the same position and the movement of people as the paddle is being fetched. The helpers step back, some with obvious regret, as you are back in the position and seem to be capable of holding yourself there.

The paddle looks terribly large in Dave's hands. He taps it against your bottom lightly, lining up the first penalty stroke. That tiniest of contacts is enough to make your face dissolve in another grimace of pain the audience finds highly amusing. The paddle then is drawn back... and it batters into your cheeks a moment later. The pain is blinding, beating anything you have ever felt previously, even the paddling yesterday. Or so you believe right now, at least. Despite the overwhelming agony you feel a soreness in your throat as well, even though you could not quite hear yourself screaming. When some sort of coherent picture emerges in front of your eyes again, the paddle is already being readied for the next strike. You want to think it will be the last but in truth you do not know how many cycles of breaking position, getting penalty strokes and restarting you may be in for. As you made the world with the intention of punishments being carried out strictly but safely as far as possible, you guess the spanking will stop if you faint or appear to be close to that. Strangely enough the thought is somewhat comforting.

The paddle completes its ark again and this time you can hear yourself scream. Even the most enthusiastic viewers are now wincing. You get no respite; before you even manage to quiet yourself down completely, the paddle is already passed to a volunteer and Dave looks at Michael expecting the permission to restart his minute. It is promptly given and his palm starts dancing against your cheeks again; even though you can see them (as much as your tears would permit, at least), you cannot shake off the feeling they must be balloon-sized by now. Strangely, though, the hand spanking seems almost bearable now. Your intern's hand is moving slower, even a spanking expert such as himself cannot maintain the hellish speed for quite so long. More importantly, though, your bottom is either becoming somewhat numb from the pain or moved past a certain threshold after which pain accumulates less rapidly. In any case, you only start feeling like you are losing control again only towards the end of the restarted minute and by a sheer effort of will you manage to maintain the position until Michael announces the time. Dave does not look too disappointed; whatever his spanking exploits elsewhere may be, you are certain he did not get to spank his immediate manager twice in as many days before. The period will probably be almost as memorable to him as it will be to you.

Unexpectedly for you this is where the second break is announced. You apparently have lost track of how many people have had their turn. Strangely you find that getting up is harder than staying in the dreadful position, but you make yourself do it. Not only you feel dizzy and disorientated, but every step feels more painful than another minute with one of the spankers. You try not to think about the exercises ahead of you as you waddle your way to the water cooler. You were worried about using the toilet in front of everyone last time but it turns out instead you are rather dehydrated. Being spanked is hard work and while you do not sweat easily normally, there is a wet outline of your shape on the gym bench. You make a mental note in your sluggish mind to wipe it clean when you can before the gym staff decide you need another behavioural adjustment.

This minute passes even faster than the first one, at least from your rather skewed perspective. You are barely done gulping down your water and wiping your face. The group left is a bit smaller than the first two but it also contains everyone with a special interest in the proceedings. After the too-familiar beep of the timer a hush falls again as your final position is about to be announced.

“Now, Jenna...”