The first cut bit into her like fire.

"One!" she shrieked.

She heard the knocker on the front door bang hard, three times. Her heart sank. That meant the next-door neighbour, Miss Primross, an elderly, nosy spinster, had heard the noise coming from the kitchen and had come to complain.

"I'll go, Vic. ... If you like."

Hester was unsure whether to answer the door or not.

Berger nodded. "Tell 'em I'm engaged. Call back later."

As Hester left the kitchen, the second stroke flashed into Tammy's bottom.

"Two!" she screamed.

Over her agony she heard voices at the door.

"Oh, Miss Primross! Well, Tammy's getting her first proper belting, you see."

Did she have to tell the nosy old woman everything? Tammy thought.

Footsteps sounded in the passage.

No, Tammy shivered, don't fetch the nosy old moo in while I'm like this!

"Vic, it's Miss Primross. She said she wanted to see you."

"If I'm interrupting anything...?"

The elderly spinster was clearly hoping she was. Hoping to see exactly what she was seeing. Tammy across the table being thrashed, her knickers down round her ankles and Mr Berger using the belt.

"Come in, Miss Primross. Just settlin' a family matter. Take a seat. Shan't be long."

Miss Primross fluttered. Her bright little eyes sparkled behind her glasses.

"Oh, Mr Berger, don't stop because of me. I'm sure you have a great deal to do."

The belt came down on Tammy's exposed bottom again.

"THREE!"

"Dear Mr Berger. So like my father." Miss Primross had a high-pitched voice that went with her appearance. Tall, thin, steel-rimmed highly-polished spectacles that glinted, a flat concave bosom with no curves that rose and fell as she breathed, especially when she was excited. Her thin nose twitched when she found something to interest her.

"My Daddy used to spank me, too." Miss Primross was practically drooling. "So did Mummy. Many's the spanking I got when I was naughty. Like the time when I was caught stealing from Mummy's purse. I wanted to buy a gob-stopper, you see, but as I hadn't any money, I thought I'd get some from Mummy's purse. Oh, my! Mummy used a hairbrush that time. My little bottom - Daddy used to call it my "bum-bum" - but then, of course, he was a man and men are allowed to say such things, aren't they, Mrs Berger?"

Hester gulped and nodded.

"Yes. They are."

"Oh, Mrs. Berger. I wonder if it's better to have a hairbrush or the belt?" Her flat chest was going up and down quickly. "Which hurts more? Do you know? You've got that nice dress on. Is it new?"

New? You old cow, Tammy thought. Of course it's not new. And you know it. It's what Mummy has to wear when she's being thrashed. And you know that, too.

Hester was spared from replying as Miss Primross chattered on.

"Please don't let me disturb you, Mr. Berger. I'm sure you have a great deal to ... "she giggled in a highly-pitched tone girlishly, "... see to."

The belt rose and fell across Tammy's flaming rear again.

"Four!"

Miss Primross giggled again.

"She has to count, has she? How sensible of you, Mr Berger. Which do you recommend, Mr Berger, the hairbrush or the belt? I do like to know these things, you see."

The sharp sting was bad enough, but the shame of Miss Primross seeing it made it worse.

"Five! O-o-o-oh! A-aah! Six!"

Tammy couldn't hold back her tears any longer. Tears brought on by the belting. Tears of shame, and of absolute misery.