<strong>Throckbottle ~ Swift and sure punishment</strong><br/><br/>Throckbottle brought back his arm. The crop whipped back behind him. It bent and then arrested like your mother discovering exactly what you’ve been doing in the shower for the last half hour by accident.<br/><br/>Humphrey looked over hopefully at Tsade, “I’m thinking eight. No more than ten.”<br/><br/>“ A couple of good lines here,” He touched her ass and looked at Tsade for approval.<br/><br/>There was no reason to piss off the Grand Master. Too much and that would be remembered. Too few and Humphrey would seem weak. How many was enough.<br/><br/>“Of course,” Tsade said without giving the Choreographer any indication as to preference.<br/><br/>It made Humphrey’s heart pound. He shuffled his feet and cleared his throat.<br/><br/>“Right then,” His hand came back once more.<br/><br/>The crop singing in the air. He had meant to bring it to her flesh but stopped as a thought nudge his conscious.  The crop hooked like a fishing pole momentarily.<br/><br/>“Perhaps six since she did perform the movement. A credit to you, she is if I may say so Sir.” Humphrey began.<br/><br/>“Very disciplined. Except of course for the hesitation. Can’t have that. They’ll all begin to think that a discussion is acceptable. Very bad for order and team work as you pointed out.”<br/><br/>Tsade didn’t move a muscle. He stood there looking at Humphrey. Waiting.<br/><br/>Humphrey felt the weight of the silence as if a bulding had fallling around him. Tsade’s look was… Hard to describe. It was as if the man were studying a painting rather than observing a punishment.  Frankly, Humphrey found it unnerving. He glance to the folded paper bag and cough.<br/><br/>“Right then, Five strokes,” Humphrey said almost certain he was doing the right thing.<br/><br/>“Is ah five,” His hand came back.<br/><br/>The crop bowed. Humphrey side armed the strike and the crop slapped lily’s ass cheeks. A slap. Not stunning. Not a crack. Not more than a swipe. It left no mark of it’s passing.<br/><br/>“Was that a warm up?” Tsade asked just to be sure.<br/><br/>“I.. erh..yes,” Throckbottle answered.<br/><br/>His palm was sweaty. He could feel a line of it down his back. The look from Tsade never changed. Throckbottle tried to swallow and couldn’t.<br/><br/>“Five,” Tsade reminded, “And I’m sure you mean to do it swiftly.”<br/><br/>“Five yes and swiftly,” Throckbottle said in something that might have passed for convincing.<br/><br/>His hand back. The crop trailing like a fishing line caste by a man hip deep in a trout stream. The flow if nothing else was smooth. Elegant in it’s own way. Throckbottle had style.<br/><br/>The leather snapped across her ass. The popped echoed in the room. It was a decent first strike, timid but decent. Courage up, two more streaked across her ass. Several of the slaves winced as it hit her. The crop painted her cheeks with two white lines.  Another course of two and she wore three white lines and one red across her ass.<br/><br/>“There!” Humphrey said triumphantly.<br/><br/>He turned to those assembled. “Let this be a lesson to you all. When told to perform do just that. As my dance instructor use to say…”<br/><br/>“If your finished with her punishment send her back to me,” Tsade reminded.<br/><br/>“Oh yes, of course,” He motioned to Lily. “Ava, return to your Master!”<br/><br/>