Some, but fewer than you expect

You're not sure whether it's the very first time the Asian lovely has been on the receiving end of a paddle, but she's clearly shocked by just how excruciating it is. Three swats are enough to cover the entirety of her shapely rear, with slight overlaps, too. You give her time to recover and thank you after each one, but she's still bawling before you start the second pass, struggling to hold still. In fact, you fully anticipate that she'll earn her first extra as soon as she feels the paddle on top of a previous bruise, but she surprises you (and maybe herself) by holding on through not three, but six more merciless smacks. Her cheeks are by now an almost uniform black, with a maroon fringe around the edges and down the crease at the centre. Each blow makes her squeal and sway, but she somehow rights herself every time.

Her stoicism can't last forever, though. The tenth swat finally breaks her resolve and she bends her knees, ending up almost crouching on the ground with a piteous wail, before resignedly returning to the required position and sobbing out an apology.

"Please, er, sir, so sorry," she sniffles. "Please punish, er, me again."

You take it that she's asking for a repeat, which pleases you, so you give her a real zinger to the bottom of her buttocks again and she shrieks, rocking forwards onto tiptoes, before settling back down and hoarsely begging for the next one. She's on the edge of being too loud, but you say nothing; if she makes more noise, you can add another extra.

She seems on the point of losing control with every smack, but rescues herself at the last moment, though her speech becomes steadily more shaky and the flagstones beneath her feet are as wet with her tears as if it had been raining. Since fifteen is the half way point (sixteen, including the repeat), you take a short break to feel the bruises you've inflicted so far, kneading the slim beauty's battered bum flesh in your hands. This causes significant distress, but it seems more due to pain, rather than being handled by a man.

With that pleasant interlude over, you resume, both to Yuina's relief and despair. Her sobbing redoubles, but despite your best efforts, the next five swats fail to earn any extras. By now, her cheeks are showing signs of wear and although many girls you've spanked could take harsher chastisement, you think that her relative inexperience means it would be safer to move your attention to another part of her anatomy for the final ten. Accordingly, you strike lower for the twenty-first blow, landing a deeply bruising stripe across the tops of a pair of lean and fit legs.

The suffering brunette wasn't prepared for your change of target and her knees buckle again, with a howl of anguish. She nearly reaches back to comfort her burning thighs, but again shows great restraint and returns to her position, asking for a repeat in her own stilted way.

The extra, applied with a touch more zip on top of the previous stroke, is just too much and she staggers upright, clasping her hands around her new bruises, almost dancing from foot to foot as she tries to process the agony.

"Hold out your hands," you order, gravely, waiting patiently for her to obey.

It takes a moment for the chastened woman to comply, but soon she's quivering with pain and fear, hands extended flat in front of her at waist level, side by side, fingers splayed, elbows bent. You correct her with the side of the paddle, pushing her fingers together and straightening her arms out in front of her. You also guide her to lower her thumbs slightly, so they're not the highest points, then you place one hand beneath hers and rap the flat of the paddle down on top of her palms, avoiding her fingers.

Yuina howls and jerks her hands away, shaking them erratically and you hear her girlfriend whimper in sympathy.

"I told you to hold out your hands," you admonish mildly and you're gratified to see the panic in your subject's eyes as she returns her hands immediately to the position you indicated.

You can hardly make out what she says next, but you assume she's apologizing and begging for another repeat.

"Now, you'll get two," you tell her and she really doesn't cry much harder at the prospect, although she does when you carry out the chastisement.

"Now touch those toes again."

Her shoulders are heaving so much with sobs that she finds it difficult to obey, but she succeeds, albeit without the grace she exhibited previously. However, it seems she's not expecting your next swat to be right on top of the last couple you laid on the backs of her thighs, because her knees buckle again, with a wail of despair, bordering on hysteria. She forces her legs straight once more and the repeat strains her muscles to the limit, but she somehow stays still.

Nine more swats follow and Yuina's cries actually become quieter, probably due to exhaustion, rather than any lessening of her torment. Twice more, she seems about to collapse, but saves herself at the last minute and when the thirty are finally over, she stands up, looking almost dazed.

"Good girl," you say condescendingly, but she doesn't react. Then you turn back to her lover.

"Well, Himari, it seems Yuina has earned you seven extras. Why don't we start off with the three to your palms?"