Satisfied at the way Weiß reacted to the first smack of the hairbrush, Winter swung it again. The second smack chained up with the third one and all those that came after it. Winter did not bother to count them. The brush landed heavily on each side of the girl’s bottom continuously – right, left, right, left, right… –, sometimes closer to the middle of her butt, sometimes lower or higher, but every time it landed with a solid, heavy sound of hard wood landing on soft skin. Once again, the older Schnee did not bother to say anything in response to her sister’s whines or the desperate begging.
However, Winter was not totally unfazed by the teenager’s reactions. Although she was already expecting for Weiß’s struggles to increase under the heavy implement, it did not make them any less annoying. One of Winter’s legs moved over the back of her sister’s knees, pinning them down in order to stop the kicking. With the poor girl’s legs pinned, her sit-spots were an easy target for the ivory brush, which quickly started targeting them as well as Weiß’s thighs from time to time. Sometimes the brush would land twice on the same spot, making the burn even worse, though by then Winter was not keeping a constant pattern anymore. She was alternating between right and left, high and low, in a seemingly random way, which in turn made it difficult for Weiß to anticipate where it would land next.
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