“Roland, take your trousers down!”
White-faced, you obeyed.
“Bend over the back of the sofa!”
You shuffled forwards miserably and did so. The seat of your underpants was tight across your bottom.
Did you wonder why I didn’t take them down? It was because of Robina. This would be her first experience of the cane, and for purely humanitarian reasons I had decided to administer it to her schoolgirl-style, that is, with her knickers retained. Therefore I had to extend to you the same privilege.
I gave you six. The cane swished and cracked across your seat but in contrast to Thelma—and Elsa—you made hardly a sound. Artemis was smiling grimly and Bobbie was wide-eyed with fear.
After your caning I made you stand to one side with your hands on your head and your trousers around your heels. This made you uneasy, since I normally sent you either to your room or to the corner after a beating. Then, swishing the cane, I ordered Robina across the sofa.
She came forwards, plainly scared out of her wits, saying: “Please…”
“Bend over!” I said sternly, pointing with my cane towards the sofa.
“Robina!” said Artemis, warningly.
With a gulp she placed herself in position. I used the cane to lift her dress. Her white knickers were frothy with lace at the legs but appealingly tight across her bottom…

Successful authoress Mirabelle Dance has a secret. She is a fervent and expert flagellant—with a flat in Mayfair, a fine collection of instruments of punishment, an ever-expanding collection of submissives, both male and female, and a busy, fulfilling career. But after a while it all starts to get a little too busy and she has to take drastic action…