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Larisa without hesitation settled down in her place, having exactly repeated her position, and Stella, swinging widely, immediately lashed her slightly lower than the waist from bottom to top.
It soon became clear that acquaintance with the rod from Stella was limited only to the loin parts of the body.
The swing was too wide for her, and the blow was hasty, as a result of which the rod did not hit the body with her whole “working” surface.

On top of that, Stella did not master the blow with a delay, and when she tried to use it several times, the instrument of punishment only slid over Larissa’s buttocks, without bringing any tangible pain.
But it was too late to change the rules.

Larisa, having received only two real blows, also did not make a sound, although she suffered incomparably less.
Ladies again changed places.
Before Stella was given the first of the next ten blows, Larisa ordered her to spread wider than her legs and adjusted the inclined plane on which Stella’s naked torso leaned so that her pink buttocks rose slightly above her head.

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Then she brought down on the lower part of her buttocks a series of strongest blows, reaching almost horizontally, then at a slight angle.
Stella slightly moved after the fifth, and the tenth met, frantically squeezing the fingers to clamp the hands.
I nodded in satisfaction: my wife had no strength and skill.
But Larisa didn’t manage to get a cry and even a moan now.
This time, Stella, having risen from her seat, slightly massaged her swollen buttocks with her hands and resolutely took the rod.
Her desire to win in this race was intertwined with her with a feeling of revenge, and Larisa was already lying in front of her, beautiful in her touching insecurity.
The girl zealously set to work, and my wife twitched after the first strike — Stella clearly grasped the art of torture on the fly.
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