Chapter 5

Emma, shivering a little, took stock of her first three weeks. She had been back to the Punishment Room for her third visit yesterday and her bottom was still sore from her beating. The Professor had once told her of a machine that beat people and she had laughed at the notion, thinking it, as she had put it, "kinky". After twelve applications of a leather tawse she had not laughed any more. The memory of that swishing sound, followed immediately by searing agony was still too recent to allow her mind to dwell upon it at any length.

Her second visit, following her disobedience in failing to stand still had been easier than either the first or the third. On that occasion she had been made to step into a small chamber which had then closed behind her, leaving her in a four feet square enclosure. The confinement was bad enough but immediately on stepping in she noticed a chill in the air. By the time she was let out a half hour later, the place was below freezing.

She was not surprised that she had not caught a chill. Emma had never been ill in her life, despite many duckings and soakings as a somewhat wild tomboy. Viruses and bacteria seemed to be afraid of her! Either that or they didn't like her! That was why she was here! She was a very strong girl - almost indestructible.

Another thing Emma had long known - ever since being severely caned for misconduct involving alcohol - was that she had a very low pain threshold. Part of being very clever, she had been told, was that one was ultra sensitive to pain.

Although it was cooler today, Emma decided to leave off wearing her shorts and underwear. It felt too sore to wear anything. As she was about to step outside the address system sounded one of its diktats.

"Subject will be fully dressed."

This meant just her bottom garments, of course. The ban on covering her trunk had been extended by a month and Emma calculated that if she were incredibly good she might get herself fully clothed in time to face the winter.

So she pulled on her clothes and winced as she did so. It was very sore down there. Then a few hours on the pedal machine. Then some reading. No television today, though. The last programme she had seen had been a quiz and some of the contestants had been so unutterably stupid that she had thought Bad Thoughts about them.

"What a load of dickheads! BZZZZ!!! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!OUCH!!"

She had also got a glimpse of the American President on her way out, before the set switched off, and had reacted in her instinctively hostile way. She wished she could grow to love him! She tried hard enough - really she did! Nice George Dubya! Good man! But the machine knew she was lying and gave her a nasty jolt anyway.