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Lying on her back, no longer held but her ankles still bound to the wooden bar, unable to rise, she looked up, apprehensively, at the switches. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 7, Sentence #153)

"No, no!" she cried. Then she squirmed, and writhed in misery, bound and held, crying out, weeping, begging for mercy, while the first instructrix, again and again, angrily, struck the bare soles of her exposed, fastened feet, stinging them until they burned like fire. When the first instructrix had finished she put the stick away in a nearby cabinet but then fetched forth from the same cabinet three long, supple, leather switches, giving one to each of her fellow instructrices, and retaining one for herself. Lying on her back, no longer held but her ankles still bound to the wooden bar, unable to rise, she looked up, apprehensively, at the switches. "We have been forgiving, and tolerant, of you," said the first instructrix, "because of your ignorance, and stupidity, but that is now at an end. No longer do you deserve our patience, and lenience". She looked up from her back, tears in her eyes, questioningly, her ankles still bound to the bar. - (Prize of Gor)