She had one foot back on the wall, knee bent; leaning on one shoulder, a hand in her pocket while crouching down with her back resting against the wal...—none of it looked right to MarcieThen again, Marcie was obviously nervous as well. She was fiddling with a cigarette that was already broken in half, hanging together by the narrowest strip of paper. She wasn’t about to light it. She wouldn’t have dared. Laura had strict rules about smoking. Had she lit up and taken just one drag, there would be. Nanny tapped her bottom with the cane, measuring her stroke. Then the cane whistled through the air as Nanny brought it hard across the center of Liz’s bottom. At first it did not seem that bad and then the burning pain came, a hot line across her buttocks. Nanny administered a stroke every ten seconds or so, the welts perfectly level and parallel, lining Liz’s bottom and upper thighs. After the first few strokes Liz was sobbing as the rattan cut across her bottom. After giving her twenty. More

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