Squat thrusts involve five steps. First, the person squats down on their toes. Second, they put their hands on the floor. Third, they shoot their legs back, so so they’re supported by their hands and toes, in the “plank” position you’d get in to do press-ups. Fourth, they bring their feet back under them, back into the squat position. Fifth, they straighten up. Then repeat.
Until the man holding the cane tells them to stop.
For most people this is a good cardio exercise that also gives the glute and quadricep muscles a bit of work. For me, it was the only exercise movement I could think of and name. For Raylene it meant a room full of people watching her breasts bounce while she awkwardly worked and showed off the muscles of her caned ass.
She looked at me. Her eyebrows arched appealingly. I pulled her shoulder before she had time to form a request. I had her half turned, and I smacked her ass, a hard fleshy impact on sore skin. So instead of begging me not to humiliate her she yelped: “Owww! Thank you, master!”
“Raylene, I didn’t ask you to thank me. But when I say ‘go’, you’re going to drop to the floor – quickly – and get started.”
Raylene looked at her bedroom floor. She’d been seeing a lot of it lately. She sounded resigned. “Yes, master.”
“Lynette. That cane under your arm. Could you pass it please?”
“Oh!” It was as if Lynette had forgotten she held the thicker length of bamboo. She grasped it like an officer with a swagger stick, and handed it to me. “One cane. Use it wisely.”
Our eyes met while the cane passed between us. “And hard, you think?”
“Oh yes. Yes, please.”
“I think so too.” I looked at Raylene, who had nothing left of her usual self-possession.
She put her hands on her head. She wanted to show she was good.
She was thoroughly disconcerted, red-faced, a muscle in her torso fluttering under the skin. I touched her belly with the bamboo. She fought to keep still, sucking her stomach in.
“Raylene, it’s the heavier cane for you, from now on, if you put a foot wrong. So mind yourself. Now: Go!”
Aware of my gaze, and Lynette’s, Raylene dropped. In every sense of the word.