An Old-Fashioned Education by Fiona Wilde Read Free Book Online Page A

her bottom.
    “Aaaeeeiiiii!” She screamed.
    He ignored her, bringing it down again. The wicked little branch blazed another line across the fullness of both cheeks. She screamed again; this time it ended in a bawl that became a string of bawls as Walt began to methodically and vigorously do just what he’d said he was going to do.
    “Tear your ass up.” Those had been his words and Polly knew now that was no exaggeration. The pain continued to build. The burning lines of fire were turning into scalding welts that became the backdrop for more welts. She kicked her legs, feeling helpless and exposed as her actions caused first her jeans and then her panties to inch down her legs, exposing thighs that were now targeted by the switch as well. Polly was bucking now, her pelvis slamming down on his lap in a most undignified manner. Her brain screamed “PAIN, PAIN, PAIN” over and over. She could not catch her breath. Her eyes and nose were running like sieves. The floor beneath her was wet with tears.
    She wasn’t even immediately aware that he’d stopped until Walt pulled her up by the neck of her sweater and led her, stumbling and sobbing incoherently, to the corner of the room.
    “You stand here,” he said, and raised the hem of her sweater, tying it in a knot. “You’re going to keep that bare ass on display, and if you hear anyone come in I don’t want you to turn, to look or do anything. You just stand here. And if you even think of feeling sorry for yourself, you stop and think of the Hart Family and what your stunt almost cost them. And then you think of Peter and what you almost cost him. Understood?”
    “Y-ye-yes,” she choked, only to be rewarded with a hard, open-handed slap to her welted bum that elicited new renewed howls of pain.
    “Yes, what?” he prompted.
    “S-s-s-sir,” she replied.
    “Good girl.”
    Boots stomped out. A door slammed. Polly was alone. Her bottom throbbed and pulsated with pain. She shifted from foot to foot, sobbing into the space where the walls joined. She heard the door open and close softly. There were two people in the room. Their voices were low, approving. She could not look, didn’t want to. Her face felt as hot and red with shame as her bottom felt with hurt.
    The people left. More came in. Was it the same people? Different one? Had Walt invited the whole bloody community to examine her striped bum? She started to hate him, but then remembered the Harts and how afraid Greta must have been when her baby was born not breathing. She thought of Peter, so confused at being accused of breaking the radio. She began to sob anew.
    He made her stand there for two hours. Her legs hurt. Her bottom wasn’t just burning now, but itching. She wanted to rub and scratch the welts but was afraid he’d come in and catch her trying to relieve the pain and punish her anew. Polly felt miserable. She wished she’d never, ever heard of Pepper’s Hollow. She wished she’d never arrived with her condescending ideas about their culture and her secret plans to “educate” them. She’d been the one who needed an education, and she was getting one. Only it wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. This was terrible, and there was no escape from Pepper’s Hollow or from Walt Springer’s discipline, at least not for a very long time.
     

     
    Chapter Five
    As Polly had stood in the corner of the Criner’s cabin with her welted bottom throbbing and on display, she’d imagined nothing could be worse.
    She was wrong.
    When she was finally allowed to pull up her pants and emerge from the cabin, she realized almost immediately that she’d become a social pariah. The other residents met her with angry glares and judgmental shakes of the head. Even Noni—the one person who had been the kindest and most welcoming in all of Pepper’s Hollow—met her hopeful gaze just briefly before turning away.
    It was dinnertime and Polly had missed lunch. She knew she should be hungry given that she’d