Experiences of a Country Girl

CHAPTER 6: SHAMED BEFORE THE OTHERS

To my great relief, he exacted nothing further of me that night, or the next, but after supper on Sunday, he ordered me to get Rosa and Selena and bring them with myself to his library.

Once inside and the door closed, he told us, to my distressed embarrassment, “I have neglected you, Rosa and Selena, while I've been away, and since only Miss Lucille was properly supervised, it's only just that you both should have a good spanking now. Though she tells me you both conducted yourselves well, still you know that I firmly hold that regular punishments keep young girls from misbehaving. And as for you, Lucille, you are going to be spanked too, just as an advance to ensure your remaining docile and obedient. So all of you will take off your dresses and slips, kneel down beside one another on that couch, holding hands to keep in position. I'll lower your panties myself… Come, be quick about obeying my orders, or you'll get more than I am going to give you.”

“Oh, M-Master,” I groaned, shamed beyond anything he had yet done to me, feeling the ignominy of my status acutely in having to accept a mortifying chastisement in the company of these two lovely servants, “Please, won't you give me mine alone? I–I promise to be very good and you can give me extra, but please don't whip me now with them.”

He stared at me coldly a moment, then retorted, “I shall give you extra all right, no fear of that, my dear. And I advise you to start undressing the way Rosa and Selena are doing now unless you wish this punishment and then another privately from me right after it, which will be rather taxing on that sensitive backside of yours.”

Cowed once again by his threat, I sobbingly began to undress. Selena and Rosa by now had removed dresses and slips and knelt down side by side on the couch, Rosa holding Selena's left hand with her right, and burying their faces on the top of the couch's back. He rose and watched me as I hastily took off my dress and slip and moved to the couch, then ordered, “Lucille will kneel between you two girls. Make room for her this instant!”

Shuddering with supreme embarrassment and dread, I knelt down between the two girls, Selena gripping my left hand with her right and Rosa taking hold of my right hand with her left hand.

“A very pretty picture of three naughty culprits waiting punishment,” said Mr. Raleigh mockingly as he approached and stood contemplating us. “An ideal subject for a painter… only I fear I am going to paint with something more painful than a brush and on a far different sort of canvas. Now keep in position, all of you, or you'll be sorry you didn't.”

With that, he came to the couch and, bending to Selena at my left, quickly and deftly lowered her panties to her knees, then went over to Rosa and did the same to her. He stepped back, with the eyes of a connoisseur to inspect us, and again praised the effect of this shameful tableau. I was wearing a pair of very thin pink silk panties with white lace at the hems and front, and he commented that he would permit me to retain them through the part of my punishment, as first of all by arguing with him I had earned a supplement, and so he would not see the condition of my naked bottom till after he had “prepared” it with a sound spanking. I hid my face from the other two victims, my hands nervously fidgeting in theirs, and I was trembling violently as I waited in desperate suspense for him to begin this shamefully immodest chastisement.

I heard him open the drawer and then return to us. Then he said, “While in town, I purchased a few interesting punishment instruments, and the one who cries the most during the first part of the spanking is going to make the acquaintance of one or another of these. So I advise you all to be as submissive and quiet as you can.”

I glanced swiftly and in terror back to see what he held in his hands, and saw it was the black leather strap with which I was all too familiar. Turning my face quickly back, I resolved to bear it bravely, as I had tasted it often before and knew its effects, painful though it was.

He began to whip us. Starting with Selena, on whose pert well-muscled oval bottom he laid three stinging, loud blows of the strap, he passed over to Rosa, and inflicted the same number on her spacious amber-colored backside, drawing a gasp of pain and a squeeze of my hand in her distress. Selena, on the other hand, had remained stoic during her first taste of the wicked strap.

In an agony of suspense, I tensed myself, but to my astonishment he returned to Selena, dealing her four swift blows which at last broke through her defenses, for she burst into tears, “Ohh… ooowwwwohh, Master, oh, it hurts!” and then again I heard Rosa gasp tearfully as three sonorous smacks told me her full ample bottom was vibrating under the force of his strong arm. My bottom twitched and shrank repeatedly as I prayed for him to stop this torture of suspense and begin my punishment. And at last I felt the searing force of the leather thong wrap across both my bottom cheeks with an energy that warned me bitterly that he was in rare whipping form and meant to spank us all severely. I stifled my cry well enough, but I squeezed my comrades' hands spasmodically and bit my lips, shivering all over.

Now he began to whip us alternately, laying a hard stinging cut across each of our bottoms in turn. Rosa was in tears, as was Selena, but as I had fewer blows by actual count, I was able to remain quiet except for some choking groans and sobs. He seemed perfectly tireless, and unquestionably this new spanking event stimulated him to energetic efforts, for I had never felt the strap land so cruelly across my hindquarters as I did this time. After about twenty blows, I was sobbing and twisting uncontrollably, at which Mr. Raleigh ironically commented, “So those panties are not of much protection after all, are they, Lucille, my dear?”

“Oh n-no, Master, oh, the strap burns awfully,” I sobbed.

“Remember, my dears, the one who cries out the most will get an introduction to my new punishment instrument,” he warned.

And all of us moved by the same juvenile, shameful fears, tried to compose ourselves, shifting on our knees which sank down distressingly into the soft luxurious upholstery of the couch, readjusting the grasp of our quivering fingers, and hiding our tear-stained reddened faces against the back of the couch.

I do not think any spanking before then or quite some time after agonized me quite so much as this one. For it was hearing in one's ears the terrible smacks of the leather strap on the naked bottom of your companions in misfortune and waiting with shrinking, burning flesh for your own turn to come, that made each biting cut of the strap finally, when it came, an agony to bear.

Several times he paused before one or the other of us and dealt her bottom two or three hard smacking cuts in succession. And by now all of us could hardly restrain our cries, while our faces were drowned in tears and our twists and contortions grew more and more uncontrollable than ever as we kicked up our heels, jerked our burning hindquarters this way and that, or lowered them, only to be told sternly to get back in position at once.

When he had given all of us about twenty blows of the strap, he stopped and then came to me and drew down my panties to my knees while I wept unashamedly, twisting about from the gnawing fury that invaded my entire bottom. “Hra,” he said, “you seem to have the reddest bottom of all, Lucille, my dear. However, I am not yet quite sure which one of you deserve the additional punishment, as all of you made the same amount of complaints and cries. So I propose to give each of you ten strokes with my new punishment cane, which is adapted from the English schools and which will be very new to you, I am sure. The one of you who carries on the most during her ration will be the unfortunate loser, and she will be introduced to still another instrument I procured for the special purpose of disciplining naughty little girls.”

He went back to the secretary and from its open drawer took out a curious little cane, with crooked handle, made of light straw-colored malacca as I later learned, about two feet long, very thin and flexible, which he whisked in the air ominously while we sobbed and groaned and twisted our naked reddened bottoms about in terrible apprehension. “Prepare yourselves, and be courageous,” he admonished as he came back to the couch.

Then bending toward Selena, for I watched covertly out of tear-blurred eyes, he put his left hand on her shoulder and, drawing back the cane a short way, whisked it deftly across the upper part of her furiously and dark-reddened bottom cheeks. She uttered a shrill scream of pain, her bottom lowered to her heels, and sobbing hysterically, she turned her head towards him and gasped, “Oh, Master, Master. Oh, for God's sake, I can't stand it! It cuts me so to the bone, Master. Oh, Lordie, it's the worst I've ever felt you use.”

“I'm gratified to hear you announce its qualities, Selena, my dear,” he replied ironically as he always does when he is whipping a helpless girl. “You see, it's not necessary to strike hard with it to be felt. Just a dextrous flick and the smart lasts and lasts and lasts a good long time, doesn't it?”

As he drew the cane sharply a second time across her bottom, a little lower down, I felt her hand tug savagely at mine, heard her shrill, “Ahrrr… oh, oh, oh, yes, yes, Master, oh, its just awful oh, please, please, use the strap instead Master, and I'll bear it bravely.”

“You have eight cuts remaining you, Selena, from this cane,” he replied, “and, judging from your noisy reception of them, I fear you may be the unlucky winner of our little tourney. But we shall see.”

With this, while Selena squirmed about frantically, sobbing and shifting her slim small hand desperately in my own convulsively trembling grasp, he passed over to Rosa, while my heart shrank. For I was dying of suspense and yearned to have this cruel punishment over with, the worst of any I had had to bear in all my life.

“Hold still, Rosa, and keep that big backside of yours well up so I can get at it,” he remarked callously as he put his left hand on my right-handed companion's smooth amber-skinned bare shoulder. I couldn't help glancing round as I knelt there with my panties clinging to my knees and my bottom smarting dreadfully from the hard strapping he had given me. I watched him draw back the cane about a foot, then cut it straight across the broad firm curves of Rosa's very red and inflamed naked bottom, taking care that the tip of the cane itself did not strike the flesh. It did not seem to be a hard blow, but Rosa uttered a wailing cry, dashed her bottom about frantically, and began to cry like a child, her hand shifting restlessly in mine. A second blow drew a moaning sob, and Rosa sobbed tearfully, “Oh, Master, oh, Master, it bruises me so bad, oh, yes, yes, it's lots worse than the strap, Master, I'll be good, so good, if you'll let me off any more of that dreadful cane, Master!”

“You are going to get your full ten, like the rest, Rosa. Now hush up while I try the effects on Lucille's tender bottom,” were his terrible words. “Oh, Lord, oh, Lord,” I groaned frantically hearing this, and I gripped my companions' hands with all my strength and pressed my mouth hard against the back of the couch so it wouldn't make me cry out loud enough to be sentenced to any more whippings.

He took a dreadfully, cruelly long time about it, and when at last I felt his hand press against my bare trembling shoulder, I gasped almost with relief, and tensed my reddened, throbbing bottom expectantly, for the cries of Rosa and Selena had told me what to expect.

But, alas, not one half of it. I felt a sudden atrocious stinging across both the lower cheeks of my bare bottom, and my hips jerked violently beyond my control at the intense, searing pain. Then, after growing numb, the pain started to throb furiously as if it had penetrated deep into the flesh and attacked the very bones of my body, just as Selena and Rosa had described so vividly. I couldn't help crying out sobbingly, but kept my mouth pressed against the couch and so I managed to register not too noisy a complaint.

“And what do you think of this little cane, Lucille, my dear?” he asked, keeping his hand on my shoulder while I knelt, cringing, my back arching, my throbbing, fiery bottom yearning to lower to my heels against the suspended menace of that atrocious little cane.

“Oh, it-it's awful, just awful. It does hurt lots more than the str-strap or the h-hairbrush, M-Master,” I groaned tearfully. “Oh, please give me all ten strokes right now so I can endure them and not make you want to punish me anymore, Master.”

“You should know by now, my dear, that I punish a naughty girl just as I wish, and I hope you're not trying to dictate to me how I should correct you?”

“Oh, no, oh, no, no, not at all, Master,” I stammered, terrified with the danger in his level voice. “Please excuse me for saying that. I–I'll always submit to your orders, Master…”

“See that you do then, and confine your comments to tears and sobs, my girl,” he told me. And at once I felt a fiery slash of the cane against the base of both my hindquarters that seemed to tear into the very roots of my body.

I burst into frantic tears from the awful, lingering pain, which seemed to get more intense as time passed. For a while I still felt the cruel bruising smart of that first cut, and I jerked my hips about so violently that he warned me to keep in position.

Then, returning to Selena, who was crying softly as she watched him come to her, he applied slowly two more sharp cuts across the upper portion of her naked swollen and reddened seat which drew wailing pleas for mercy from the pretty young girl, and she jerked away her right hand from my grasp, at which he sternly ordered her to resume the hold and lectured her on her naughtiness.

Next he came back to Rosa, who was sobbing softly and trembling, as I felt from her hand in mine, and laid two slowly spaced deliberate cuts across the full middle of both hindquarters. She twisted about so furiously that he had to warn her too, and added a third cut which drew a strident, “Ahrrr. Oh, my bottom, my bottom, oh, Master, no more. Please, don't whip poor Rosa's bottom anymore!”

“You have five left now, my girl, and thus far you are most likely to be the one who stays for a little extra discipline,” was his reply as he took his stance in back of me. With a sharp sobbing gasp, I readied myself, but not tensing my muscles, as I had discovered already that this effort seems to make the atrocious lingering bruises of the cane even more ferocious.

Nevertheless, it was all I could do to keep from shrieking when slowly he placed three separate cuts over both cheeks of my bottom, the first at the top, the second at the base, and the third bridging my bottom cheeks in the plumpest part. And my contortions lasted a long time after he had finished with me, while I was almost breathless with my choking sobs.

He moved back to poor Selena, who was weeping uncontrollably as she saw his approach, and informed her she had six cuts left to suffer, while Rosa and I had only five. He made her stick out her naked rear more at “the proper angle,” as he so cruelly and ironically put it, and then, keeping his palm lightly pressed on the small of her supple sleek arching naked back, applied two vertical cuts, first on the left cheek, then the right of her discolored, furiously inflamed bare bottom.

The weals crisscrossed those previously laid on, and Selena's shrill screams testified to the suffering thereby caused, for he had to threaten her with an extra four cuts to make her get back into position, and left her writhing and sobbing pitifully as he passed beyond me, shivering there, and my eyes blinded with hot tears, back to poor cringing Rosa who was murmuring fervently, “Oh, Lordie help me, oh Lordie help me. It hurts me so,” which I overheard, united as I was in misery with these two beautiful punished and suffering girls.

He prolonged his stay before her, first applying the sixth cut straight across the lower curves of both plump bottom cheeks, then whisking the supple pliant instrument vertically against the broadest and firmest part of each cheek in turn. And under these latter two strokes Rosa screamed hysterically for mercy and lunged and did a sort of a dance on her stockinged knees, crying desperately from the pain and begging him to spare her, avowing she would do anything in the world he wanted of her if he would only stop. I reddened with shame to hear a young woman have to demean herself so to a man that she would give him her body to stop the pain of a humiliating whipping that should not be given to any living being… but my own turn was next, and my heart beat wildly as I cringed and trembled, hiding my face against the couch and gripping my companions' hands with a feverish expectancy.

I felt him tap the cane slightly over my bare bottom, patting the place he no doubt meant to spank next, and I sobbed aloud as I steeled myself, huddling my thighs even though I knew the tension of my muscles would make the blows more bruising. And when the cane, after lying over my bottom for what seemed an eternity, finally drew back and then dashed across the lower part of my hindquarters, I uttered a piercing cry and shook my hips from side to side and up and down in frantic contortions as if to cast off the unbearable aching burning sensation it had left.

“Four more, my dear,” he murmured hoarsely, as he put his hand on my neck and forced me to arch myself out to the dreadful little implement, with which I now felt him pat the base of both my bottom cheeks, “You're doing better than I'd expected, I will say that. So don't let me have to keep you here when this final position is administered.”

“Oh, I'll try, I'll try, Master, but if you only knew how it eats into my poor flesh,” I sobbed fervently, agonizing, my flesh crawling with torment of anticipation as he continued to pat the place he had selected.

The seventh blow landed just where he had previously marked it with this cruelly gloating and humiliating caress of the cane, and I bit the couch in my agony, rolling my head, my hips, my thighs from side to side in an ungovernable suffering, my shoulders shaking with my frantic sobs. He kept his hand on my neck, and then I felt the vertical blow of the instrument on the left cheek of my swollen fiery bottom, making a crisscrossed welt with those just left by the cane, to say nothing of that punishing strap with its broader if lighter markings. This time, I could not control the frantic, hysterical cry that surged from me and I twisted and lowered myself interminably…

Thank heaven, I heard him leave me and return to poor Selena, who was moaning, “Oh, make it over, Master, please, for God's sake make it be over soon. It hurts me, oh it hurts my poor bottom so.”

He gave the poor girl all four of her remaining strokes. I couldn't watch. My eyes were blinded and swollen with my own tears and suffering, but from the way she wrenched her hand in mine and cried out sobbingly and begged him to pardon her, I knew they must have been dreadful.

“Now then,” he said more briskly as he came to Rosa, “Rosa, you have three cuts due your big naked backside, which is very much used up. And you, Lucille, have just two… Yours seems not much less marked, my dear. These final strokes will determine who is to remain here for extra punishment. So I advise you both to summon all the courage you possess, as I mean to lay them on rather severely.”

With this, to my terror, he put his left hand on my right shoulder and I thought my time had come, but instead he dealt Rosa the first of her three remaining cane strokes, full across the plumpest part of her agonized behind and she screamed, a long-drawn, piercing, wailing scream, “Ahrrrrrrrrr. Oh, have mercy, Master, oh, have mercy now on Rosa. She'll be so good from now on if you'll only stop with that awful cane. Master.”

A second blow, whose dry thud I heard landing horribly on her swollen martyred flesh, responded to this heartrending plea, and again her screams were wild and desperate as she tore her hand from mine and clawed the back of the couch, wriggling and twisting about in her ferocious sufferings. He ordered her to maintain that pose and stick her bottom well out for the last cut. Then I heard him patting her lightly with the hellish implement and warning her that she knew she must submit to anything he ordered. Finally, he concluded her whipping with a solid cut that made me shudder at its thudding violence, and her agonized shriek rang out uncontrolled, followed by convulsive, hysterical sobs.

It was my turn now, and I tried to bring all my courage to bear, digging my nails into the sofa, crushing my tear-drenched swollen face against it as I waited in an agony of mind and flesh for the termination of what might be the very finale of the whipping… or, oh, God help me, the signal for a new ordeal of torture to my bruised and swollen, throbbing naked flesh.

He took a cruelly long time to finish me off, ordering me to keep my bottom well up, then patting it all over till I winced and sobbed in my terror and could not prevent my flesh from twitching and contracting which I know must have been entrancing to him, for he remarked that I was much more lovely when I had been well whipped, and I had a particular charm for him when my big white bottom was red and twisting about. My shame, I cannot describe. To have to hear these immodest comments about my naked body in the presence of the two other girls of my own sex, and the fact that Mr. Raleigh could force all three of us girls to accept submissively such humiliation only increased my repugnance and dread of him.

At last the ninth cut fell, vertically on my right bottom cheek, and again my resolve to be brave failed me, for I screamed aloud in my suffering. But even as I was crying out, the cane dashed sternly over the top of my bottom for the final cut of all as I prayed, nonetheless drawing a new frenzied twisting about and shifting up and down on my knees, while my tears ran freely.

“Now then,” said Mr. Raleigh hoarsely, “I think I may say that all three of you have been adequately whipped for your naughtiness in my absence. Lucille, you may go back to your room, put some cold cream on your bottom, and go to bed. I shall not be visiting you tonight, by the way.”

Shamed though I was at this announcement of my physical bondage to Mr. Raleigh, I nevertheless felt this most exquisite relief at being pardoned more of the dreadful whipping. I picked up my clothes painfully and stumbled back to my room, still sobbing from the feverish heat in my behind, which was the greatest it had ever been in all my life in getting punished.

It was a long time before the agony of my bottom permitted me to fall asleep, but at last I did. At breakfast the next morning, Mr. Raleigh told me that he had judged Rosa guilty of making the loudest outcries, and, after sending Selena to her room, had taken off Rosa's brassiere, shoes, and stockings, tied her up on a chair like the one on which I had had my first whipping from his hands, and then given her fifteen spanks with a hard rubber paddle he had purchased in town at the shop of a leather goods worker who had made these to order and other instruments for him on special order. He added ironically that he had had to stay with Rosa all night long to console her, for she seemed quite feverish from her severe punishment, and that he was sure she would be a very good girl from now on. It was Selena who served us breakfast, eyes downcast and still reddened from crying.

And so, in this energetic and cruel manner, I have been treated by Mr. Raleigh ever since. His methods vary at times, yet they never tend to lessen the severity of the whippings I receive from him nor the desire to continue to humiliate and punish me that follows most of them. It is, in my mind and opinion, the worst form of humiliation a girl can endure: to be made to be submissive to the man who has just whipped her.

Mr. Raleigh whips me about once each week now. When I first arrived, of course, he whipped me more often. But, as though fearing he might tire of the amusement, he has arranged it so that it takes place only once each week. Sometimes I am tied up for the whippings, and at the others I am made to lie across his knees. That, of course, is aside from the occasional whippings I receive from him for little acts of disobedience.

I doubt if my father ever intends to pay back the money he borrowed. I have been the slave of Lester Raleigh nearly a year now, and during that time my father has gone deeper in debt to him. I fear my period of slavery will never end till Mr. Raleigh cares to end it.