<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3c/Ririfinal1_by_vactuart-d9pkdvm.png)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Lakresha Price<br/><strong>Student ID: </strong>OS843-0710<br/><strong>Age/Year: </strong>19/Freshman<br/><strong>Area of Study:</strong>Occult Historian<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Basement 8:15 PM<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Angel, Riley, Olivia, Suzanne<br/><hr/><br/>"What?" Incredulous but smiling, liking the fun of a prank but unwilling to be the butt of it, she leveled the device. "Honestly my mind did not go there. It's like a wand, or a stirring stick, for a cauldron? Like those paint stirrers." But as she tried out either motion in her hands, Lakresha had to admit the paddle was not very well balanced for sorcerous conducting nor churning magical butter. "She's just playing. I know how to settle this." Ever the intrepid investigator, she consulted her phone. "H-e-a-r-t p-a-d-d-l-e. Here we go." Skimming. Reading deeper. Pondering the depths of what she'd discovered. "This is inconclusive. S-p-a-n-k-i-n-g p-a-d-d-l-e. Oh." She ceased waving it about. "When you're right, you're right."<br/><br/>"We shouldn't be in here," Lakresha was the first to admit, but moving not a muscle to leave. Every detail was now important. "You know I saw a shock news report on something like this, college girls getting mixed up in BPSM. Bondage-Punishment-Sado-Masochism?" Journhalistic curiosity drew her hands across the toys, the restraints. Something about the deeply personal atmosphere prevented her from taking pictures. "That'd be an interesting story if it's happening in the witch community. Not toally magic-related, but..." The paddle was still tucked under her arm, she realized. Something Angel had said rushed back to her.<br/><br/>Lakresha's dominant hand took the paddle. Her ghost-detecting phone spilled grey light across the floor. She had never before examined a woman's backside with intention to strike. Angel's was nicely shaped, now that she had reason to picture the contour beneath the clothes. Maybe a love tap would ring insincere- at first the heartwood bat seemed far too strong a tool for a young lady's body, but this was a meaty part of Angel. She felt it again, that excitement of the interview she'd never wanted to end.<em>Krik-krik </em>went her phone.<br/><br/>Her fingers tangled in Angel's shirt to bring her down. What was she doing? Twirling the paddle like a gunslinger in her fingers and raising it back for the full followthrough of a smack.<em>Krik-krik-krik-kzzzt </em>reported the phone. She inhaled, intuiting somehow that the peak of her breath would help the paddle to snap back without breaking, like a game she had played a hundred times without remembering until now.<br/><br/>She was an instant from laying it across Angel's backside when a panicked body and trailing rustling cloth darted by in the basement hall. A second body, running behind at the length of two outstretched arms. A third, stomping in pursuit, scraping the walls with unyielding mechanical arms. A door succumbing to battering ram. What she had been doing was no longer important. Lakresha stepped out to see what was happening, a paddle her only weapon.