“When did you enter the club?”

The girl winced in her seat. “I don’t remember, Sir... a little more than a year.”

Lieutenant Warwick nodded. He took a note. “So you were 13?”

Her blond curls bobbed up and down as she nodded. “My Daddy took me.”

“And he was a member of the Club?”

“Yes, Sir. That’s a bit... err...”

“A bit what?”

She gulped. “A bit old.”

“You were too old to join the club?”

“Yes, Sir. But they let me.”

“No need to call me ‘sir’. Why was that old?”

The girl shrugged. “Most girls are younger.”

“And boys too?”

“Boys too, Sir.”

Lt. Warwick wrote that too. At the other end of the table, Dr. Cvetic zoomed in a little on the teen’s face. The girl noticed and gulped.

“Camera making you nervous?” Lt. Warwick asked. The girl didn’t respond, just hung her head. “Alright.” He signalled to Dr. Cvetic to turn it off, and she pretended to do so.

“Why does the camera make you nervous?”

“I-it doesn’t, Sir...”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“S-sorry Sir.”

“So you’re not new to cameras.”

“They have cameras.”

“At the club?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What were they for?”

“T-to... to tape things. Everything.”

“Everything that happened, or just certain things?”

“Everything that happens.” The girl squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then stared blankly in front of her. “The house is filmed 24/7.”

Lt. Warwick scribbled on his notebook. “Did you ever see the tapes?”

“T-tapes?”

“The recordings.”

“Oh. Sorry Sir. There are no tapes. It’s all digital and it goes to a computer.”

“Where was the computer?”

Her voice steadied and she sat up straight. “The computer is in Master Herbert’s quarters, Sir.”

“I see.”

Lt. Warwick eyed a blueprint of the manor the Club was based in. The master bedroom and its facilities occupied most of the second floor in the central building. It was labelled ‘Herbert Horst’.

“And you’ve never seen the files either?”

She shook her head. “No, Sir. Only seniors can.”

“What was a senior?”

“A senior has been in the Club for two years.”

“Hmm.” He took yet more notes. “And kids could be seniors too?”

“Yes, Sir. After two years.”

“So younger kids than you were seniors.”

She blushed a little. “Yes, Sir.”

“Did you want to be a senior?”

“Yes, Sir. I’d love to.”

“Have you asked if you could become a senior before two years are up?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, Sir. That would earn me a whipping.”

Lt. Warwick wrote. Dr. Cvetic eyed the camera to make sure it was still rolling even though the recording light was off.

“When you say whipping,” Lt. Warwick asked, “do you mean a spanking?”

“A whipping is... well, a whipping. A spanking is not a whipping.”

“Like, how is it not?”

She sighed. “Boys and girls always get spankings. Some are good and some are bad. But a whipping is always bad. No one wants to get a whipping.”

“Why, did someone want to get spankings instead?”

The girl shifted in her seat. “Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Because spankings... they feel good. Sometimes.”

“And whippings don’t...”

She shuddered almost unnoticeably. “N-no, Sir.”

“So where’s the difference? I’m a little thick sometimes...” He said condescendingly, sure that the girl wouldn’t notice.

“No, Sir, it’s my fault. I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath before explaining. “A spanking is given on the bare bottom, in the living room or outside... well, wherever. If you earn one, you’re given it. The good spankings are in... our bedrooms.”

Lt. Warwick noted that down. “Do go on.”

“Y-yeah... in our bedrooms with our Mommies and Daddies.” A small smile curved the girl’s lips as she said that. “When you’ve been naughty and get a naughty spanking, they spank you with the hand, the hairbrush, the belt, or the paddle. Sometimes all of them.”

“Hmm-hmm...”

“A whipping... well, it’s different.” She sighed. “Your crime is reported to Master Herbert, and you’re ordered to his quarters. It’s there that you get your whipping.”

“Only there?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“For boys and girls?”

“No, Sir. Only girls. Boys are sent to Lady Ann.”

Dr. Cvetic opened a file with picture and fingerprints of Ann Bradford. She was still in surgery.

“I understand. So you were never sent to Lady Ann?”

“No, Sir. It’s against the rules.”

“That a woman spanks a girl?”

“Everyone can spank a girl, Sir. Lady Ann whips boys and Master Herbert whips girls.”

“I understand. I didn’t get that.”

“Sorry, Sir.”

Lt. Warwick closed the notebook and eyed Dr. Cvetic. The woman nodded briefly in response, then leant over and placed her elbows on the table.

“How was a spanking like?”

The girl sighed. “I... it’s...”

“I’ve asked you a question, young lady.”

The girl’s eyes widened and she sat up straight. “Yes, Ma’am. Sorry, Ma’am.”

Dr. Cvetic nodded firmly. Lt. Warwick had no idea where his colleague was going, so he just sat and listened.

“A spanking is given where you’ve earned it, no matter who’s watching. The adult sits and you stand in front of them. You must raise your dress and your panties are pulled down. Then you are scolded for what you’ve done. Then you are taken over the adult’s lap and you get your spanking.”

“How long does it last?”

“Five minutes, Ma’am.”

“Always five minutes?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And then it’s over...”

“N-no Ma’am. Then the adult asks someone for help, and they bring the adult a tool. I get the hairbrush often but some mostly get the belt. Especially the boys get the belt.”

“When you say ‘get’, you mean the spanking continues with the tool?”

“Yes, Ma’am. For three minutes.”

“Always three minutes?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And how do you like the tools?”

The girl shrugged. “I’m not supposed to like them, Ma’am.”

“I know. I want to know which tools you hate the most.”

“Oh. Sorry Ma’am. I hate the paddle because it has holes drilled in it. It leaves my bottom bruised and blistered for days.”

“So no spankings those days.”

“N-not exactly Ma’am. I still get spankings, just not as hard.”

“I see.”

“Every kid must be spanked every day.”

“... always?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And if they don’t misbehave?”

“They get spanked at bedtime.”

“I see. So these are the spankings. How is a whipping different?”

“Y-you... you are taken to Master Herbert’s quarters. You must take everything off and stand in the middle of the room. Then he comes...”

“Why, where was he?”

“Behind the curtains...”

“The curtains.”

“Yes Ma’am. That’s where he changes clothes, and prays.”

“Have you been there?”

“No Ma’am. Only the Ones go there.”

“Who?”

“The girls he chooses, Ma’am. The Ones live with him.”

Dr. Cvetic gritted her teeth and nodded. “I see. So what happens after he comes out?”

“You must present yourself.”

“How?”

“You say your name and what you’ve done, and you kneel.”

“Does he say anything?”

“No, Ma’am. But you know he’s watching from beneath his cloak.”

Lt. Warwick eyed Herbert Horst’s file and saw a picture. The figure was tall and gaunt, and wore thick black robes that covered him head to toe. It couldn’t even be guessed it was a man. A symbol was sewed on his chest: a red cross dripping blood encircled in a glowing ring on fire.

“So you don’t see him. Not even his eyes?”

“No Ma’am.”

“His hands?”

“He wears gloves, Ma’am.”

“I see. Go on.”

“Master Herbert lifts you up and ties you to the whipping post...” She took a shuddery breath.

“What’s that?”

“It’s... it’s a bar hanging from the ceiling. Your feet are well off the ground when you’re tied.”

Lt. Warwick cleaned the sweat from his forehead and clenched his fists. Dr. Cvetic noticed and silently admonished him to keep his cool.

“Hmm. I suppose that must be painful.”

“N-not particularly, Ma’am. I mean, yes, but... you have other things on your mind.”

“Such as?”

The girl looked away for a second before resuming. “The whip...”

“Where is the whip?”

“Under his robes. He pulls it out and... whips you.”

“How?”

“Acr... across your back and bottom... and across your front too if you spin in the air.”

“So you try to keep still.”

Silence.

“So?”

“N-no, Ma’am. I try to spin.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s a number of strokes.”

“Always the same number?”

“Yes Ma’am. You can’t take them all on your back side.”

“How do you know?”

“B-because it bleeds.”

“So you try to take some on your front too?”

“Y-yes Ma’am.......”

Dr. Cvetic nodded. She did look very calm and controlled. On the outside at least.

“And when it’s over?”

“An hour later you can go.”

“And until then?”

“He leaves you hanging... well, I mean... yes, literally.”

“And he walks away?”

“O-only if you’re not a senior.”

“Like you.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And if you’re a senior?”

The girl looked at her hands folded in her lap. “Master Herbert plays a game with you. They say that if you’re very good at the game you can enter the Ones.”

Dr. Cvetic nodded. Lt. Warwick took deep breaths to try and remain calm.

“I understand. Do seniors do that with other adults too?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You’ve seen it? And I suppose it’s in the computer...”

“Yes, Ma’am... I’ve seen it. And yes Ma’am, everything is recorded.”

Dr. Cvetic nodded and stood. She walked to the window, casually checking the camera as she passed by to make sure it was still rolling.

Lt. Warwick grabbed his notebook and stood too. “Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.”

The girl nodded and smiled just a bit. “It is my pleasure, Sir. When... when am I going back?”

“Soon, child. Soon.”

Dr. Cvetic and Lt. Warwick walked out of the questioning room and to the coffee machine at the end of the corridor. All around, the Police department swarmed with activity.

Neither said a word until two cups of coffee had been gulped down. Lt. Warwick stood by a looking glass; beyond it, a boy of six or seven was being asked identical questions by Dr. Harrison and Captain Marshall. Every available room was occupied with members of the Club.

“Is... is that enough?” he asked.

Dr. Cvetic nodded. “But I don’t want this to go to court. I’m offering the D.A. a settlement in the morning. There should be no problem in claiming the girl insane.”

Lt. Warwick nodded. “After what she’s been through, I’d be surprised of the contrary.”

“Yes. Same with all the others.”

The man sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “What will happen to them? And to her?”

Dr. Cvetic shook her head. “I don’t know. They’ll probably be given to custody...”

“Will they be treated? You know, shrinks and all that.”

“Oh you bet.”

“And she?”

“She...” Dr. Cvetic hesitated. “I’m afraid there’s no treatment possible right now. She’s doomed to a psych ward. If she’s lucky.”

“Shit,” Lt. Warwick muttered. “You don’t get out of those easily.”

Dr. Cvetic shrugged. “She’s shot seventeen people. What did you expect.”

“Yeah. Just... do you think she even realises what she’s done?”

“No way. Have you heard? She speaks in present tense. She even wants to go back. She has no idea most adults are dead and it’s all over.”

– The End –

This story does not necessarily represent the author’s point of view about anything. It is simply a work of fiction . The characters herein portrayed are invented and do not resemble reality to the best of the author’s knowledge. This account is entirely fictitious . Any similarities to other persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

This story is written for the sane amusement of adult readers. It does not intend harm and does not promote violence of any kind, including spanking. No offence is meant to any group, ethnicity or individuals.

The author does in no way endorse the non-consensual disciplinary spanking of actual children and / or teenagers.

Copyright © 2005 Haley Brimley . Contact for information and / or feedback.