And the next, eight out of thirty, would be— SMACK! Jessica resigned herself to the fact that belt whippings at the hand of her powerf...l beloved Nelson were not, and never would be, conducive to mental calculation. She tried to set a multiplication problem for herself. Not a septillions problem. Not a quadrillions problem. Just thousands; two numbers of four digits each, with a result of between nine and ten digits. Easy. The eighth blow struck before she could think of two. Abbot Anselm felt himself become aroused at the very memory of the caning;he could see it in his minds eye,each stroke landing on the posteriors of the fornicators,he could hear brother Benedict's high pitched voice scolding each wicked fornicator as he brought the cane down on each buttocks,he could still hear the cries of the errant subjects,pleading,promising to behave. The Abbot looked at his clock,it was time to don his habit and take up his usual position in his private study and await. More

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