The heavy paddle swept down and forward in a smooth movement and – CRACK – impacted the bright red bottom bent tightly over the desk.
“Twenty-three” Mistress Valerie intoned firmly, over the shrieks of the firmly-tied target. He himself had long since stopped counting and thanking, and with a faint muffle caused by the thin panties covering his face, had passed through begging for mercy and was now capable only of crying hysterically and continuously.
Mistress Valerie drew the paddle back again and – WHACK! “That’s twenty-four!” she pronounced above the sobs. She strode around to the pantied head, noting the small puddle of tears on the floor with some disgust.
“Now let that be a lesson to you, Servitor!” she intoned, and stood frozen in silent triumph over her victim for a while.
“And…CUT” came a voice.
Mistress Valerie relaxed her pose and grimaced. “How was that?” she asked worriedly. “Was the lighting all right?”
“Yeee-es” Sandra said slowly, an elegant finger working the touchpad on a laptop wired up to all the video equipment. “But I’m a bit worried about that siren that went past four minutes in…hang on.”
As Sandra listened intently to Her earpiece, Mistress Valerie leant back against the wall, arms crossed. She gazed at the shaking, sweating Servitor with revulsion, and tried not to think that this sort of moment was just what cigarettes had been invented for. She had given up just six weeks earlier.
“No” Sandra said resignedly, shaking her head. “It just messes up the whole of strokes thirteen and fourteen. We’d better take it again from the top.”
Mistress Valerie swore under her breath and stepped forward to pick up the paddle again. There was a moan from below. She glanced down in irritation.
“Oh do be quiet Servitor. You wanted to be in a video and now you are. I take my work very seriously; the least you can do is try to behave reasonably professionally.”
She composed her features, hefted the paddle, then nodded at her friend.
“Twenty-four strokes with the paddle, Take Nine.” called Sandra.