Madam is back into rhythm, delivering the remaining strokes for Zeek’s punishment.

She is keeping the strikes steady and precise, landing them on his shoulders, back, and thighs, avoiding the areas Jessica pointed out earlier.

duckie is locked in, counting out each blow, his voice tight but unwavering.

Seventy.

Seventy-five.

The last few come slower, more deliberate—one at a time, letting him feel each one fully.

Eighty.

Eighty-one.

Eighty-two.

The final stroke lands with a crisp, biting snap.

“Eighty-three for Zeek, thank you, Madam.”

And just like that, Zeek’s punishment is done.