Diane looked at the shirt, and at me. She said, “I can’t wear that. There’s nothing to wear.”.
I said, “put it on.”
So Diane did. I let her do up the bottom button. It still gave her very little cover. I smacked her bottom, which was bare, for all relevant purposes. She made no protest, or reaction. We were past that. I gave her her bundle of switches.
“You carry those. When we get home I’m going to whip you with them.”
Diane took the switches, and said nothing. I said, “Do you understand?”
I smacked her bottom again. “What do you understand?”
“I carry these. And when we get home, you’re going to whip me with them. Um, sir.”
“Good. That’s better. Let’s go.”
And we walked out of the little copse, where so much had happened and changed, and onto the path, under the lights.