The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 8 (Part 23)

My ass was throbbing. The cane welts were raised and so very tender. Discretion was needed. I fetched a bucket of soapy water, and scrubbed the baseboards out of direct sight. The men’s conversations combined with the sloshing suds, lulled me in an altered state. With my bottom high, I slid the coarse brush forward and back, wringing out the dirty water with rags. The luncheon gong caught me by surprise. It took five minutes or so to finish the section I was cleaning, and several more to dump the filthy residue on the kitchen midden. I donned my uniform.

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