The three final ones were grouped together at the base of my bottom, leaving the middle area clear. “That’s the trouble with caning over shorts: you can’t see where the strokes land. Back in my day, every caning was given on the bare bottom.” I shuddered, my mind filled with the image of a stern headmaster holding a long cane in his hand, a naked Miss Craven bent across his desk waiting for her punishment. “Your mates are going to tease you about this white area,” mused Miss Craven, still caressing me. “I think we should fix that. What do you say to two more, with feeling?” I didn’t answer, too weak from shock to move my mouth.

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