Without delay, Sister C raised her right hand up to the height of her shoulder, and I noticed for the first time that her hands were not small and dainty, but large, almost paw-like and muscular, almost manly.
Whilst this was registering, the hand disappeared in a blur and thudded into Mary’s left buttock with an awfully loud smack.
“Oww!” came out of Mary’s mouth.
“Quiet girl!” Sister C said as the second spank landed on the opposite side of Mary’s bottom.
Again and again, the paw struck home.
Waves spread all-around poor Mary’s bottom, thighs and chest as each spank’s energy rippled out.
Her head bobbed in time with the rhythm of the spanking and soon tears flooded down her face.
She howled with each additional blow.
Sister C had probably spanked her 25 or 30 times before she finally stopped and let Mary get up.
Still crying freely, Mary hopped about as if on hot coals and was rubbing her sore bottom for all it was worth.
“Now you, girl!” said Sister C, pointing directly at me.