Miss Frothinglips sniffed, haughty nose in the air and gave the barest of headshakes to his question. Mr. Steedstiff’s finger made a twirling motion. She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders before bending over placing her palms down on the stool. He took a long step forward, tucking the whip under his armpit and then raising and folding her dressing gown until it draped over her head. Her sheer peignoir he left alone, in her position, it rode up to mid-thigh. “Feet together, Francine, bottom up and do not rise or the strike will not count. Fifteen in total.”
Rather than read each individual drabble, you can go to this page which has links to all the complete previous chapters. For easier reading, once I have posted all 30 drabbles, I repost the entire chapter in 3,000 words.