Familiarity gave me confidence. The first stroke landed as planned. Parallel to the floor, evenly distributing the impact across each cheek. A pause t... wait for any adverse reaction, then a second stroke. A third stroke, lower towards the crease between buttocks and thighs. A pause to check that the sob was just that, a sob, a signal that the beating was progressing reasonably. Then three more strokes, moving up her buttocks, judging the impact over the softer, more shallow flesh up towards her. Each of these images woke her up suddenly, dripping, until her white pyjama top was see-through, with cold sweat.As she climbed wearily out of bed and headed for the bathroom, Hanna started thinking of people she could call to voice her concerns about the previous night. Oh yes, she recognised she needed help, but the problem was where to get it. Who would listen to her? Family members wouldn't take it seriously. They'd laugh it off and wind her up for being "grossed out" by her parents having. More

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