The Sharps

The studio lights flicking on shock me into instant wakefulness and I open my eyes and swing my legs out of the right side of the bed without delay. The lights are automated and there is no time to waste. My sister Candace (Candy) and her girlfriend Michaela (Mickey) are getting up, too, but we have no guest performers today, so the other two beds are empty. We smooth down the duvets, remove our nighties and lay them down on our beds in unison, then head for the bathroom.

We ignore the cameras capturing every movement of our now naked bodies, marching like soldiers, shoulders back, eyes front, arms swinging by our sides. We do not speak; fraternization during streaming is forbidden and although almost all of our scenes are scripted, my father and stepmother never pass up the opportunity to punish us for any rules we break, even unintentionally.

Candy starts in the shower, gasping at the ice-cold water which hardens her nipples and gives her goose bumps, whilst Mickey cleans her teeth and I use the lavatory. We know where all the cameras are and avoid looking directly at them, pretending we are not livestreaming to our thousands of subscribers.

With practised efficiency, we swap, allowing me to wash my hands in the shower, before gently soaping my body, being especially careful with my welted bottom, which I turn to show my fans the best angle. The temperature encourages swiftness, but we would hurry anyway, because the consequences of shilly-shallying could be exceedingly unpleasant. Afterwards, I have a quick rub with a towel, then comb my wet hair straight down my back, but don't dry it yet. Next for me comes teeth, then the three of us return to the dorm to stand at the feet of our beds, hands behind our heads.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I get there. Sometimes my father or stepmother rushes down to catch us unprepared, other times they keep us waiting for ages. We have asked them to warn us the day before, but my stepmum says our reactions are more authentic if we don't know what to expect. Today, it is only a few minutes later that my dad arrives. He begins by checking us thoroughly for cleanliness, then walks over to the spanking bench.

"Jade!" He barks my name out and, although I'm expecting it, I still jump. I march over to the bench and bend over. Now, for the first time, I look directly into the lens which will capture the sight of my face screwed up in agony, when I receive my morning stripes. Another is focused on my behind, but at an angle that shows my bare labia quite clearly.

My father starts immediately, the four feet of fibreglass imprinting a line of fire across my cheeks. I howl, tears exploding from my eyes. I make no attempt to hide my anguish, because our viewers like to see our suffering, although I do make sure both my face and bum stay in frame and in focus. I do not exaggerate the pain I'm feeling, partly because that would be dishonest, but mainly because I don't need to. Six of the best every morning might not seem much, but it soon builds up and by now, every stroke is landing over several older welts, not to mention the spankings we get in other streams.

As always, I am a sobbing wreck by the time I'm finished. I return to the foot of my bed a good deal more awkwardly than I left it and present myself again, whilst first my sister and then her girlfriend are called up for their half dozens. They fare no better than me and soon there are three very tearful and well punished nude girls on display to our subscribers.

My father leaves, but the cameras keep rolling for a few more minutes, before the lights dim, signalling the end of the stream. We give a collective groan, all our hands moving to rub our burning backsides as gently as we can. We are allowed to speak now, but there's not a lot to say. As soon as we feel able, we climb the stairs from the soundproofed basement which has been converted into the studio, into the spacious open plan kitchen of the luxury four bedroom villa which our scenes pay for.