I stared at it dumbly. Who had unzipped my dress, I wondered?Bemused, I stepped clear and reached for the refrigerator door. My throat was parched fro... the smoke and I needed a cold beer. Gooseflesh covered my upper body and my breathing was ragged; a shiver that I recognized as wholly sexual in nature twisted down my spine. I released the door, and stood still. I was not alone. Not my tousle-haired future bride, either. This person had unzipped my dress and now had his fingers undoing my bra. “Two” the second stroke landed just as I was feeling the pain from the first stroke.When the third stroke landed I cried out “Jesus Christ”.“Do not use blasphemous language in this house” shouted Mrs Whittingham angrily “that’s just earned you a further six strokes, so be warned” the fourth and fifth strokes followed quickly. I gripped the settee harder and was literally trying to bite my tongue to stop saying anything. One by one the strokes followed, to the left buttock to the right across. More

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