The Perils of Paula

20Jan11

Thursday 20th January, I think

Dear Diary,

I finally got my diary back, oh but you wouldn’t know that, they took it you know. They shouted a lot and I gather that it was against the rules to write.

Anyway, I was explaining that it was only a bloody diary when a big woman came in with a short leather paddle-strap thingy. I behaved with resigned dignity and carefully explained that I was sorry and that they didn’t have to spank me. Not buying it huh? OK I burst into tears and started to beg. I told them my bottom was still sore from my public whipping but they didn’t seem to care.

I was shoved face down on the bed and my shirt-skirt thing was pulled up to my waist so my bum was bare. Then the woman began to spank me hard on the bottom until I was yelling and crying.

Reading this back it’s that’s not quite right, as the last sentence implies that she stopped once I was crying, truth is the spanking when on for a very long time after that, so long in fact that the boss man came and told them to stop.

The next day I was taken out to the yard for the next part of my whipping with the triple cane thingy.

This happens about every three days. I never know how many I get and I have lost count of how many times I have been whipped. All I know is that now I have two more sessions.

In between whippings I get one day to recover and then I am made to scrub floors. All day that is all I do on my hands and knees, scrubbing floors that don’t even need scrubbing. Some days my back aches worse than my bottom.

It has got so that the best days here are the day after a whipping when I can stay in my room. I get better food that day and I just lie there feeling my bottom gently throb. It’s a little bit nice the day after, perhaps all the punishment has made me a little kinky.

What was I saying? Oh yes, the diary. Apparently the boos man read it and said it was not dangerous, but he said, I think, that he will read it occasionally until I leave to make sure.

I asked the translator, “I thought he couldn’t speak English?”

I was told that he can’t, but he can read it. I never knew it could happen like that, sometimes I think I might be stupid.



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