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A Bedtime BeatingR HumphriesFeaturing the Artwork ofDave EllWoodettes Publications

Published 2010byWoodettes PublicationsHouston, Texas, USA© Woodettes Publications 2010R Humphries has asserted his right to be identified asthe author of this work with all rights reservedincluding the right of reproduction in whole or in partin any form.The Library of Congress has catalogued this edition asfollows Humphries, R [date]A Bedtime Beating : a novel byR Humphries[Application Pending]1st Ed.ISBN – [Application Pending]www.woodettes.wordpress.com

Author’s NoteThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters,places and incidents are either the product of theauthor's imagination or are used fictitiously. Anyresemblance to actual events or locales or persons,living or dead, is entirely coincidental.The stories based at the Woody Back to SchoolUnit are works of adult fiction based upon the real-lifefantasy games played by the author, R. Humphriesand his wife, the inimitable Jojo.It is the author’s intent to create the WoodyBack to School Unit as an imaginative world peopledwith a believable cast and set in familiar surroundingswithin which the readers will become comfortable.The vernacular used in the stories is acombination of the phraseology derived from writingsuch as the British penny comics from the nineteenthirties, current language, slang and idioms, and theinvented parlance known as Woody Jargon.As such references to ‘beating’, ‘thrashing’, and‘flogging’ have no context to the use or avocation ofphysical violence, with the exception of controlledcorporal punishment, against the characters of thestories.

DedicatedtoMy Beloved Jojo

ContentsNot a Good Way to Start the Day .......... 1Katie Beck .......................................... 5A Complete Mess ............................... 11Debs Revenge ................................... 14“Remove Your Dressing Gown” ........... 18No Hard Feelings .............................. 22

1Not a Good Way to Start the DayDeborah Morton padded through the darkenedcorridors in slippered feet. As she turned each cornershe peeked around to ensure the coast was clear. Thefacility had been under lockdown for some time andshe was confident that her secret mission would besuccessfully completed without detection.Debs was feeling rather smug. For most of theday she had been extremely grumpy as a result of arather disagreeable engagement in the Matron’s officethat she had been obliged to attend earlier in the day.A visit to Katie Beck’s office first thing in the morningwas never pleasant but this particular morning Katiehad been even more odious than normal. Theappointment had been concluded with Deborahsprawled face down across Katie’s lap having herrump pounded with a leather soled slipper.Deborah’s latest trials and tribulations hadactually started twenty-four hours earlier with herejection from the assembly hall on charges ofgoofing. It had been a classic Debs moment.

A Bedtime BeatingThe rules regarding behavior in the assemblyhall were explicit. No goofing, gabbing, larking,pranking, pushing, shoving or poking from themoment of ingress to the time of egress. Ms Lawton,the former Grand Dame of the facility, had arguedthat it was not too much to expect for the inmates tospend this brief period in a state of decorum. MrHumphries saw no reason to relax the rule.For inexplicable reasons Deborah hadparticular difficulty abiding with this simple protocoland held the units record for being evicted. Theprevious morning she had taken her seat and forseveral minutes had sat quietly as required. Then,without any good reason she felt it would be a jollyjape to annoy the gal seated directly in front of her bypersistently tapping the underside of the clothcovered seat of her chair with her foot. Almostimmediately she was spotted by the Red-shirt andshown a red-card and found herself trudging towardsthe front of the hall.Taking up the traditional position of disgrace,standing between the doors to the hall and the stepsof the stage she had several minutes to contemplateher latest folly. For the sake of a moment’s mindlessactivity that had been neither particularly amusing norsatisfying she had sentenced herself to a mandatorytwelve-stroke bare bender.Deborah’s problems were further compoundedby the arrival of the Brass. Although most of theDames either just rolled their eyes or threw hersympathetic smiles Patty Hodge and the Wartbarreled down on her gleefully. Debs braced herselffor an unsavory ration of tongue pie. Patty grinned

3wolfishly and very theatrically reached into the pocketof her couture jacket and extracted a red-card.Theatrically she displayed it to the seated inmatesbefore loudly instructing Deborah to book herself anappointment with Katie Beck to be slippered for collarand tie abuse. Deborah groaned. She did her best toglare defiantly at Patty but she could feel her cheeksredden. Momentarily she considered hacking Patty inthe shins but thought better of it. She sighed. Thiswas not a good way for a gal to start her day.The caning was a routine affair involvingDeborah bending over the back of a straight-backedchair in the Grand Master’s study with her bumbagsconcertinaed around her ankles. Deborah was a fullypaid up member of what the Woody Wags called theDouble Berkeley Society in recognition of the famousEdwardian dominatrix Theresa Berkeley. Ms Berkeleyis widely acknowledged as being the originator of theterm ‘Six of the best’.At her popular house of flagellation the famousLondon Flogging girls such as Miss Ring, One-eyedPeg and Ebony Bet could take dozens of strokes ofthe birch but complained that extended sessions withthe cane tooktoo long torecover fromand reducedtheir businessopportunities.AccordinglyBerkeley allowedvisiting floggers’six strokes at a

A Bedtime Beatingfixed price if they chose to beat the girls with theNilgiri canes she had imported from Eastern India.Additional strokes could be purchased at increasingad valorem duties.In an obituary published in the London Timesfollowing her death in 1836 she was described as ‘Sixof the Best Berkeley’.In Deborah’s opinion ground rules establishedby such distinguished historical dignitaries should berespected and had even authored a highly respectedtreatise on the subject arguing ‘Why six of the best isalways the best’. Nonetheless, she had becomeresigned to the factthat a trip across theback of the infamousstraight-backed chairnow guaranteed hera full twelve strokethrashing. It was allmost disagreeable.

2Katie BeckDeborah spent an uncomfortable day wrigglingand squirming on the hard wooden seats of thelecture rooms. A decade and half of having herbumbags peppered with a wide assortment of canes,straps, slippers, hair-brushes and sundry kitchenutensils had taught her some degree of painmanagement. She did her best not to allow themonotonous throbbing in her rear end to distract herfrom the tutorials. Occasionally she would make anunconscious movement that would prompt teethchattering,eye-watering, nerve-jangling pain tocourse through her central nervous system and causeher to rue her momentary act of compulsive impulsivebehavior. It was all most disagreeable.She managed to survive the days curriculum oflectures attracting only a minor scolding or twoalthough during the latter part of the final tutorial shewas shown a yellow final warning card. She wasgreatly relieved to hear the last bell.

A Bedtime BeatingShe availed of her best chum, RosemaryBooker’s, services and spent fifteen minutes spreadout across her lap having her bum anointed withRosie’s mystical balms. Then she spent the remainderof the day doing her best to stay active in the hopethat physical activity would stop her gluteus maximusmuscles from seizing up uncomfortably which couldresult in the unfortunate disorder of pygalgia (aka ‘apain in the arse’) setting in.At ten o’clock she turned in but had difficultysleeping. After all she had little to look forward to inthe morning except her scheduled meeting with KatieBeck’s slipper.Most mornings Deborah rose early and wentrunning with her tennis coach Jane Lummell. The onlyexceptions were when she had a pre-brekkerappointment with the unit matron.Deborah was an attractive young woman butshe was perennially clobber challenged. Even in herheyday as one of the nation’s most photographedwomen she had never been a fashionista, favoringloose fitting leather jackets, jeans and a baseball cap.Her only expensive accessory was her signaturecowboy boots that she had custom-made by acraftsman from Texas.At Woodys she had found the imposed regimeof wearing clobber convenient as it meant that shedidn’t have to think about her daily wardrobe.Nonetheless, she had considerable difficulties with themany rules, regulations and protocols known as the‘Politics of Clobber’. Her particular nemesis was therule that required that the top button of her blouse

7should be fastened at all times and neatly coveredwith the knot of her red and black striped tie. “I feelall trussed up,” she was fond of complaining. Herchum, Nixdown Nixon, who was a well-known clotheshorse liked to tease her that it was she onlypurchased ‘catalogue crap’ instead of investing inbespoke clobber.Her clobber challenges had resulted in Debsbeing required to beat a path to Katie’s door onnumerous occasions. They had developed a healthydislike for each other.Instead of joining Jane Lummell for a runDeborah spent some time preparing herself for herpending ordeal. She checked and double checkedevery seam, hem, stitch and button of her selectedclobber to ensure that there was not a singlecontravention of the Politics of Clobber protocols.She knew that she was due for a mandatorytwelve spanks from the leather slipper and wasdetermined not to give Katie the opportunity toincrease her punishment. She dressed carefully,brushing her slightly wavy hair back behind a headband and finally shrugged on her red and blackstriped blazer. She stood in frontof the mirror and examinedherself. She used a clothes brushto sweep away a couple of strayhairs before setting off for herengagement.Katie Beck was waiting. Asusual she was dressed in herwhite skin-tight uniform which she

A Bedtime Beatingwore unbuttoned to most effectively display her wellformedbreasts.Katie was a creature of exquisite beauty. Shewas tall and slender with a thick mane of dark hair.She had long legs and an hour-glass figure. Mostevenings she could be found propping up the bar ofthe Bunch of Grapes where she was a popularattraction amongst the local lothario’s. She was also aClass 1 Be-yotch.Katie had been one of the first ExtremeLadettes to be dispatched to the newly formed Backto School Units. At a highly publicized hearing beforethe Dark Agents of the System she had been exposedas the only female to sit on the Board of Directors ofthe notorious criminal gang known as theConfederacy of Yoofs.She was cunning, devious and about ascharming as a snake. These were all personality traitsthat had made her an instant attraction to PatriciaHodge. Patty was in the market for a candidate to actas Commandant in her blue-print for the initiation ofthe Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers. Katie was theposter-child for the role.Using her powerful position as Deputy GrandDame Patty managed to install Katie Beck into theposition of Red-shirt. It was a dark period in the livesof the inmates of the facility and would coincide withDeborah beginning her sentence as a Little Brat.Granted a ‘Licence to Spank’ any Brat shepleased Katie took advantage of Deborah’s clobberchallenges and anytime she spotted Debs with a hairout of place Debs immediately ended up over Katie’s

9knee. It was not a relationship designed for much inthe way of sisterly bonding and Deborahunderstandably grew to dislike Katie intensely.When Katie returned to the facility with thesemi-Brass status of Matron she immediatelyreconstituted her siege on Deborah’s bumbags,slippering her into third place on the All-Time ClobberAbuse rankings only marginally behind the notoriousScruff and Debs own best chum, Rosemary.Deborah knew the form. She reached up andplaced her hands on her head and linked her fingersas Katie came around the desk to perform Stage 1 ofher clobber inspection.Katie worked at her usual slow pace runningher fingers over every seam of the blazer. Debsstared straight ahead, she understood the drill, Katiewas just beginning the trying and tiresome ritual.Deborah knew that she had to remain calm andovercome the almost overwhelming compulsion to biffKatie on the hooter.“Alright, remove your blazer and hang it up,”Katie said finally in an annoyingly imperious tone.“Put your tie over your left shoulder and return yourhands to the top of your head,” the matron instructedonce Debs had placed the jacket on a hanger.Debs rolled her eyes but she complied.Stage 2 of the clobber inspection was tedious.Deborah was certain that her clobber was in pristinecondition but nonetheless Katie’s intense inspection ofevery thread and button was designed to unsettleher. The unit matron was an expert at the processand every now and again she would return to her

A Bedtime Beatingdesk and pick up a jewelers eye-glass and inspect aparticular button for signs of chips or unacceptablefading and ageing. She rarely spoke except tointerject an odd “tut-tut” or to mutter “oh my whathave we here?”. She was especially skilled at workingfrom the rear where Deborah couldn’t see what shewas doing. It was all thoroughly disconcerting.Katie sat behind her desk filling out her checklist.She hadn’t spoken for several minutes. Finally shepushed the paper across the desk.

3A Complete Mess“You got lucky this morning Morton,” she saidDebs. “Sign here.”Deborah lowered her arms and steppedforward. She picked up the pen and added her initialsto indicate that the inspection had been carried out ina satisfactory manner and that she would not be filingan appeal. She tossed the pen down on the table.“But not as lucky as you think, Morton,”cackled Katie and she slid open a drawer of her desk.She extracted a white blouse and waved it atDeborah. “You are a complete mess, Morton,” shesaid nastily. “This blouseis a disgrace. You’re upfor double-bubble.”Deborah gaped inastonishment. The crispwhite blouse Katie waswaving in the air wascovered in ink-stains.

A Bedtime BeatingHer mind raced and then her heart sank. She knewthat she had inspected her clobber when she took itoff the previous evening but then BernadetteSummers had stopped by. Debs had just come out ofthe shower and was preparing for bed when theBounder came knocking. As usual Bernadette hadcontracts she wanted Debs to sign. Deborah hadbeen tired and had tried to give Bernadette the bumsrush but the Bounder was persistent. Finally Debs hadacquiesced and reached for the papers. The MontBlanc fountain pen that Bernadette had signed hadnot appeared to work. “Just give it a good shake,” theBounder had advised.“Oh good fucking grief,” muttered Debs as shestared at the ink-stained blouse. She hadn’trechecked her clobber before stuffing it in the laundrybag. She could do nothing but stare hopelessly atKatie Beck.Katie Beck tucked Debs into the crease of herlap and tugged down her bumbags.“I’m going to enjoy this,” she chortled and tooka tight grip on the leather-soledsandal that she had procured in thePlaka flea-market in Athens. Shebrought it down with a resoundingcrack. Deborah Morton was helplessto do anything but mutter and groan.Although Deborah despisedKatie she had a grudging admirationfor her skill as a spanker. Deborahhad little doubt that she wasscheduled to be sprawled across

13Katie’s lap for some considerable time. Katie wasspanking her at a leisurely pace leaving plenty of timefor each resounding crack of the slipper to cyclethrough Deborah’s system. It was all verydisagreeable. It didn’t help that Katie maintained arunning commentary throughout the slippering,informing Deborah gloatingly that there was no betterway for a gal to kick-start her circulation in themorning than a prolonged slippering. Debs did herbest to zone out the unpleasant and snide remarksbut they were distracting. She was havingconsiderable difficulty getting into the zone.Katie had Deborah pinned head down, arse upfor almost ten minutes. By the time she was releasedDeborah was thoroughly drained. There was noquestion that Katie had done a very thorough job andDebs felt as if her bum had swollen up to the size of apair of watermelons. Her face was flushed and hercheeks were burning. Her eyes blazed with righteousindignation as she handed over her PunishmentRecord Book for post-processing.“I hope thattaught you a lesson,Morton,” cackledKatie.“I’ll teach youa fucking lesson,”muttered Debs asshe stomped out ofthe office.

4Debs RevengeFor the second consecutive day DeborahMorton was forced to spend an uncomfortable day onthe hard wooden seats in the lecture rooms. She wasextremely grumpy and broody. The ignominy of beingforced to spend an extended period over Katie’s kneewas almost worse than the pain of the spanking. Shefound it hard to concentrate on the tutorials. Bylunchtime she had already accumulated three yellowwarning cards and had become unnervingly close tobeing caned on several occasions.“You need to be careful,” her best chumRosemary counseled her at lunch-time. “If you carryon like this you’re going to be thrashed and your bumis in no shape for a whopping right now.”Debs knew her chum was right but she wasseething with pent up anger. “I’ll get that be-yotch,”she muttered darkly, but despite her foul temperDebs had managed to navigate the afternoon lectureswithout unpleasant incident.

15Deborah forced herself to stay awake. Shewatched the digital alarm clock by her bed. Officiallights out and lockdown was at eleven o’clock. For thenext forty five minutes the prefect known as theDorm Raider would continue to make her rounds ofthe landings on the look-out for anybody goofing orgabbing. Debs feigned sleep when Melanie Whitequietly opened the door to the study she shared withRosemary and shone her pin light into the room.Deborah waited until midnight before swingingher legs out of bed. She picked up her red and blackdressing gown and put it on. Across the roomRosemary was cutting plenty of zees. Deborahpadded quietly across the room and slipped out ontothe landing. The facility was silent. She hurried alongthe corridor.Katie’s office was a considerable distance fromthe living quarters so Debs had to cut through alabyrinth of hallways, corridors and stairwells to reachher destination. After six years of incarcerationDeborah knew every inch of the sprawling buildingand even in the darkness she was able to find herway. She approached the final stairwell that led up tothe Grand Master and Katie Beck’s offices. Sheclimbed the stairs slowly. She felt a slight shiver upher spine. Generally when she climbed these stairsshe was on her way up for whops.Earlier in the day Deborah had persuaded hergood chum Nixdown Nixon to hack into the computersystem and find the pass-code to give her access toKatie’s office. With trembling fingers she punched thefour digits into the electronic keypad and let herselfin.

A Bedtime BeatingDebs went over to the cupboard where KatieBeck kept her leather soled slippers. Deborah tookout a tube of super-glue and went to work. She gluedthe soles of each pair of slippers together renderingthem useless for their intended purpose.She felt quite smug. The collection of leathersoledslippers was Katie’s pride and joy. Of courseDebs knew that Katie would find an alternative butnonetheless Debs was sure that she would beapoplectic when she discovered her prized collectionhad been put out of action. She chuckled to herselfand hurried back out onto the landing.Deborah was only fifty feet from safety whenshe ran into Melanie White. She gaped at the DormRaider. Debs had been certain that by now Melaniewould had been ensconced back in the Old Galsquarters sharing a bottle of wine with CathrynCassidy.“M … M … Melanie,” she spluttered. “What areyou doing here?”Melanie was equally flabbergasted toencounter Debs. She was certain that when she hadmade her last tour of the landings Deborah had beensound asleep.“I think I should ask you that question Debs,”said Melanie. “What the Dickens are you up to?”Deborah sighed. “I had some business toattend to,” she muttered.“Business? What business it’s quarter pasttwelve?” asked Melanie.“I’d rather not say,” responded Debs.

17Melanie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Youknow I have no choice Deborah. I’m sorry but I amobliged to beat you,” she said.Debs hung her head. “Yes Ma’am,” shemuttered.“This is ridiculous,” muttered Melanie. “I can'twhop you in your study, it would just be too noisy. Itwould wake up the whole landing. We’ll have to go tothe library. Now cut along sharpish. I have some Elitebusiness to take care of before I have time to dealwith you. I’ll be along to beat you shortly.”“Yes Ma’am,” muttered Debs.

5“Remove Your Dressing Gown”Deborah stood facing the wall beside thelibrary door. She leaned her neck forward so that thetip of her nose rested against the wood paneling andraised her arms and placed her hands on her head.Her heart was pounding uncomfortably and hertummy was filled with butterflies.Deborah Morton was not of a nervousdisposition by nature but the prospect of being canedby Melanie was daunting. Although three quarters ofa day had elapsed since Deborah’s unpleasant tripacross Katie’s knee her bum was still swollen andquite tender to the touch. It was not in the best ofshapes to be caned by one of the unit’s mostrespected martinets.Debs and Melanie were tight but Deborahknew that wouldn’t help her cause. Melanie was anexperienced member of the Elite and she practiced astrict ‘no favorites’ policy and dealt with every galwith exactly the same efficiency and severity.

19Debs and Melanie had history. When Melaniehad first been appointed as Dorm Raider she hadbroken her duck by giving Debs six on the silks.Deborah who knew about such things had givenMelanie a rave report for technical merit, artisticcontent and given her nine for the all-important heatfactor. Throughout the year Deborah had severalmore encounters with Melanie’s ashplant andcontinued to express her admiration for her chum’sefficiency.On her Debs Diary blog she reported, “I havebeen caned by dozens of members of the Elite andthere are three absolute stand-outs, Patsy Butcher,Claire Brooks and Melanie White. I’m not sure who ishottest but if I had to make a call it would probablybe for Melons.”Debs stared at the wall miserably. In someways she wished that Melanie would hurry up and getit over with, on the other hand she dreaded thethought of the cane slashing across the seat of hertautened jimjam trews. Deborah had spent manyhours of her life facing walls with her hands on herhead waiting to be caned. Nonetheless despite herconsiderable experience it was impossible not to beanxious. The longer she stood there andcontemplated her upcoming fate the more anxiousshe became. Her tummy was churning in a mostdisagreeable manner by the time Melanie arrived andtold her to lower her arms and to follow her into thelibrary.The two gals padded across the large areareading area of the library. The Grand Master hadfilled the room with high-speed computers and works-

A Bedtime Beatingstations. Deborah was a studious cove by nature andhad spent many pleasant hours lounging about on thecomfortable leather sofa’s while she did research forher assignments.They reached a second door. Melanie turnedthe handle and swung it open. She stepped aside toallow Deborah to enter. The back room was acomplete contrast. It was dark and shadowy, lit onlyby the flicker of candles. A fire glowed at the far endin a huge ornamental fireplace. Deborah shivered.There was only one reason for entering this room andover the past six years Deborah had been unfortunateto make over a hundred visits. They had all concludedpainfully.“I’m going to have to ask you to remove yourdressing gown, Morton,” said Melanie. While theywere in the punishment room Debs understood thatthey were no longer on first-name terms. It waspurely a business matter from hereonin.“But it’s cold,” Debs said rather lamely.Melanie didn’t respond and unenthusiasticallyDeborah undid the sash of the thick toweling robeand set it aside.She stood in herthin black andred striped silkjimjams facingMelanie.Melanieunfastened thefive buttonsdown the front

21of her red Elite blazer and shrugged it off. Sheunfastened the cuffs of her blouse and slowly turnedthem back. Finally she reached up and undid the topbutton of her crisp white blouse and loosened her redElite tie. It was all part of a practiced ritual designedto increase the tension of the moment. Both galsknew the importance of this little ritual. Debs felt herheart rate increasing and ran the tip of her tongueover her dry lips. The moment was closing in on her.

6No Hard Feelings“I need you to bend over in front of thefireplace,” said Melanie not unkindly.“Yes Ma’am,” muttered Debs. She turnedaround. It was only a few paces to the fireplace but itseemed considerably further as she trudged along.She stopped a few feet in front of the hearth. Sheleaned forward at the waist. She stopped when herhands were barely passed her knees. She took a deepbreath and finally reached down until her finger tipsrested on the tips of her shoes.Over the past decade and a half DeborahMorton had been required to bend over on literallyhundreds of occasions but it never got any easier. Itwas the dreaded final stage of all the nerve-wrackingpreparations. She was now presented for the solepurpose of having her bottom whopped with a whippycane.Once she was correctly positioned Deborahknew she must clear her head and get into what theWoody Wags termed as the zone. She needed to

23brace herself so that she could find the courage notto howl or blub. It was the mantra of the megaminxesthat ‘only muffs howl'.Melons flexed the cane between her handsthen stepped in and planted her feet.“I’m going to need you to put it up and keep itup, Morton,” she told Debs.Deborah grunted.Melanie White loved Debs like a sister but sheknew that she had to set her emotions aside and geton with the job at hand. She knew from lengthypersonal experience that there was absolutely nopoint in whopping a gal unless you whopped herproperly. Giving a whop-hardened minx a few gentleflicks would serve no purpose. Fond though she wasof Deborah she was duty bound to lay it on thick.She tapped the cane down once, twice, thriceand then pulled her arm back and unleashed ascreamer.There was no question that Melanie’sreputation was well deserved. Since being appointedto the Elite she had beaten over a hundred gals andshe treated them equally whether friend or foe.She understoodthe mechanics ofdelivering a good, safethrashing. She did notemploy much of aback-swing, relying ona last second flick ofthe wrist to increase

A Bedtime Beatingthe speed the cane cut through the air to Mach One.Every caning is a partnership. It was Deborah’sjob to present her backside as prominently as possibleto allow Melanie a clear shot. It was Melanie’s job todeliver the beating in the safest possible manner. Theshaft and tip of the cane had to land directly in thetarget area known as the sweet spot. There should beno wrap-arounds or high or low riders. It was allabout accuracy and control.The sound of the cane rebounding fromtautened silk echoed around the library. Deborahhissed in consternation. The opener had beensensational, the sound of impact exploding in her earsand the excruciating pain imploding beneath thetrews of her jimjams. She squeezed her eyes shutand her mouth opened in a silent howl. The effects ofthe stroke began its cycle.The shock-wave would start with theimmediate searing pain at the moment of impact thenthe effects of the stroke would spread its tentacles atan electrifying pace, ricocheting around her centralnervous system like a pinball making her shudder.The initial nerve-jangling, teeth-chattering, eyewateringsensation would followed by the under-burnsettling beneath her scalded flesh and working itsway into her gluteus maximus muscles. Her breathcame in pants as she tried to gather herself. DeborahMorton was in no doubt that she was in for a hot andsweaty few minutes.Conventional wisdom is that the perfect six ofthe best is delivered over five minutes. One minute ofpreparatory anticipation while the recipient is in

25position, three minutes of actual caning with thestrokes delivered at thirty second intervals, followedby a one minute recovery period before the releasecommand is issued.However Melanie understood that the toetouchingposition was the most difficult to maintain soshe had to reduce the cycle time considerably. Shecaned Deborah at fifteen second intervals, allowingjust enough time for each individual stroke to be fullyappreciated.Deborah was not in any position to appreciateMelanie’s fine handiwork. The effect of beingwhopped across the residual tenderness of themorning slippering was devastating. She could almostfeel the weals rising on her flesh and then the strokesslowly blending into a bubbling, steaming cauldron ofheat that permeated below her tautened jimjamtrews.“It’s only whops, it’s only whops!” she repeatedover and over in her head. Her eyes were burningwith unwept tears. She was perspiring profusely. Shefelt as if she was onfire.Five strokesin and only thecloser left to come.Deborah bracedherself and tried tokeep calm. “You cantake it,” she toldherself. Bravely shepushed her bottom

A Bedtime Beatingup a little higher and waited for Armageddon toarrive.An expert like Melanie always closed with a fivebar gate. The final stroke delivered diagonally acrossthe existing stripes. She adjusted her stance and tooka tight grip on the cane. The only sound in the roomwas Deborah’s breathing which was coming in longimpassioned pants. The tension was palpable as bothwomen prepared themselves for the critical momentthat would complete the beating. Melanie Whiteraised her arm and brought it down swiping.Debs wanted to open her lungs and scream thewalls down. The final stroke had been delivered toperfection. The pace and accuracy had been anexhibition of consummate cane control. Debs grittedher teeth to suppress the impulse to holler, “It willpass,” she told herself as the shockwavesreverberated from her toes all the way to the tip ofher nose. “Sheesh,” she muttered and shook her headin consternation.“Jeez Melons, I’m still sizzling,” Debs grumbledwhen she visited Melanie’s study the followingmorning to have the beating post-processed. “Youreally do whop hard. That is the hardest you’ve evercaned me. Thatlast one nearlycut me in half. Itwas an absolutekiller. I’m gonnagive you a tenon the heatfactor scale forthe closer and

27nine point seven five for the overall performance.Jeez Melons I’ve only ever given a pre a nine pointseven five once before and that was Patsy Butcher formy first formal house beating, and that was a fuckingtwelve stroke running bender.”“I promise I didn’t do anything special,” saidMelanie a little defensively. “That’s just the way Ialways whop.”“Well you used to be hot and now you sizzle,”said Debs emphatically.“No hard feelings I hope,” said Melons.Deborah reached over and hugged her chum.“Of course not. I deserved to be whopped and it’syour job to whop me. Just remind me to keep mybumbags a good distance from your cane in thefuture.” She smiled weakly and unconsciously reachedback and rubbed her bumbags.Melanie looked surprised. “Now that’s a first. Insix years that the only time I’ve ever seen DebsMorton rub in public.”Deborah took her hand off her bum andflushed slightly, “and I’d appreciate it if you didn’tbrag about it. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”Melanie White leaned over a hugged Debs.“Your secret is safe with me, sis,” she assured herchum. “Now let’s write-up the beating and then goand get some brekker. Late night whopping alwaysmake me hungry.”Melanie White and Deborah Morton cutthrough the corridors arm-in-arm on their way to thecafeteria. An outside observer may have found it a

A Bedtime Beatingtad queer that just a few hours after they had been atthe opposite ends of a cane that they would becheerily heading out for coffee together, but outsideobservers rarely understand the many mysteries ofWoodyworld.