As soon as he had me correctly posed over his knees, he gazed fascinatedly at my posteriors and then began to pinch them painfully. When he could prolong the inspection no longer, he permitted me to stand up while he praised my legs and thighs, then made me assume a variety of spanking poses: bending over and touching my ankles with my hands, kneeling on the floor with my head and shoulders bowed down, bending across his left hip when he put his arm around my waist to hold me in place, kneeling on the chair with my head in my arms against the back. And my parents didn't protest at any time, but watched, seeming to approve of his knowledge of how to spank a girl when she needed it. Each time he gave me some instructions he emphasized them with a smack on my bottom with his hand. He seemed to find it very fascinating, and smacked it as much as possible. I don't know how I kept from crying, for I was in an agony of mortification, and I tried not to look at him all through the ordeal. The examination lasted for nearly an hour, and I felt I had no physical secrets left from Mr. Raleigh by the time he finished staring at me. I cannot describe my feelings during it. At times, I was filled with a nameless terror, such as one has on waking from a nightmare. Yet I knew this was no dream from which I could awaken. Instead, I knew I was being sold by my parents. My only hope was that a display of complete submission to his orders would cause my master — for such he was-to treat me kindly…

“A very perfect young lady,” Mr. Raleigh declared at last, resting his hand possessively on my bare shoulder, and turning to my parents. “Perfect both from a medical and artistic standpoint. As an artist, I have seen many nude young ladies, but none so interesting as Lucille. I am sure I am going to enjoy being her guardian. All right, my dear, you may get dressed now,” he said to me.