BOOK TWO
CHAPTER 1: MORE MR. RALEIGH

Though I was frightened and overtaxed from the emotions and sufferings of watching poor Selena being thrashed and then myself being spanked, and the shameful interrogation he had conducted with me across his lap, I didn't dare to doze off, as I might have overslept. I could only lie in bed shivering and thinking, as the clock's minute hand drew nearer and nearer the fateful hour, just what humiliating and degrading ordeal I was going to submit to voluntarily in my cowardice-for that was what it was-the cowardice of my inflamed smarting flesh. I put a pillow under my bottom to ease the smart of that spanking, and I tried not to cry as, with sinking heart, I noticed the minute hand creep closer and closer to the fatal hour. About ten minutes before the time was up, I heard a noise in the room adjoining mine, and I knew then that he had come back from Selena, and would be waiting for me. I tried to reason with myself, that, after all, just a dozen more smacks of the hairbrush and my spanking would be over. No, that wasn't so terrible. But the thought of having to beg him to… to do the other things to me… when I feared him so and was so mortified in his presence to be naked and his slave girl… that was what agonized me terribly. But I couldn't run away… I was in bondage, and there was no escape. If I could only win his affection so he would treat me like an equal… I was attractive. He found me so and told me, and a kind man would have won my love. For I was so alone now and helpless that had Mr. Raleigh treated me gently, I could easily have come to be fond of him. He was handsome certainly and not physically repugnant to me other than… the things he made me do and did to me. It was a minute to the hour specified when I walked to the door separating our rooms, my hairbrush in my hand, biting my lips and trying to keep the tears out of my eyes, opened the door and walked into his bedroom after closing the door behind me. He was sitting on a large footstool, clad in a dressing gown and sandals, smoking a cigarette and glancing at his wrist-watch. I saw that he wasn't wearing anything under the dressing gown, and I blushed furiously and bowed my head as I started to him. When I got to where he was, I went down on my knees and, not looking at him for I was much too ashamed, stammered tremulously, “M-Master, please for-forgive me for being naughty I–I have brought the hairbrush so you can g-give my b-bare backside a-a dozen h-hard spanks with it… and… and then… and… and then I–I b-beg you… to… to… p-p-p-poke m-me… and… and… end my punishment…”

I fought against the tears that rushed to my eyes as I had to say that humiliating formula, but he seemed pleased, for he smiled and said, “Very well, my dear Lucille, I'm glad to see that your behavior is just as I ordered. Hand me the hairbrush.”

“Y-yes Master,” I stammered and obeyed, thinking he would take me over his lap and turn up my nightdress as before.

But instead, to my amazement and horrified modesty, he opened his robe to bare his body and said, “Again I intend to test your statement that you are willing to do anything to prove your submission, Lucille, my dear. So you will take a slightly different position for the end of your spanking. Come here on your knees, put your head between my legs, and then you will first pull your nightdress well up over your bare backside and then kiss my cock humbly while I finish off the spanking you asked for.”

I shrank back, my eyes wide with shamed astonishment at this, but he said coldly, “Perhaps I was wrong in being generous and lessening your punishment, Lucille. I think what you really want to ask for is a good sound taste of the switch on that impudent, obstinate behind of yours. Isn't that it, my dear?”

That decided me to accept the degrading position he demanded of me. I exclaimed feverishly, “Oh, no, no Master, no. Please use the hairbrush instead. I'm going to obey you, just as you asked. I swear I am.”

“Then let me see you do so at once, without further discussion, my dear,” he remarked sternly, and opened his legs wide to expose his private parts.

He was sitting forward on the edge of the footstool so that I could do… what he wanted. With a sob, my face purple with shame, I crawled forward, bowed down my head, and put my hands around his legs to hold onto the sides of the footstool. But in my haste to obey him, I of course forgot the preparation he wanted me to make, and he reminded me. “I thought I told you first to pull up your nightdress over your naughty bottom, Lucille. You certainly don't expect me to spank it covered, do you? At least, you won't in this house, because a naughty young girl is always punished with a whipping on the bare skin of her naked behind.”

“Oh… I… oh, forgive me. I–I… forgot… I–I… was so anxious to do just what you asked, M-Master,” I groaned as I rose erect, fighting the tears and rushing my hands to the hem of my nightdress, which I furled up to my waist, then bent down again between his legs, resumed the hold of the sides of the footstool, upturning my reddened, still smarting naked bottom to his cruel and humiliating attentions.

“That's better,” he grudgingly admitted, but a well-trained little girl doesn't forget part of an order if she's really obedient. So, instead of getting twelve hard spanks with the hairbrush on your bare backside, Lucille, I am going to give you twenty. You will stay in the position all through their application and continue to kiss my cock. Try not to make too much noise crying, for besides, that would prevent your carrying out the order I just gave you. Now, are you ready?”

“Y-yes M-Master,” I sobbed, trembling as I crouched thus on my knees before him, my mouth applied towards his sexual organ, my nostrils filled with the curious warm fetid scent of his body there… and I thought of Selena… and I reddened to the roots of my hair.

“Hra… your behind is still quite red, apparently spanking you by hand has had its merits. I shall have to try again soon when you are naughty and in need of punishment, Lucille. Now hold your bottom as still as you can. I am not going to spare it, because you disobeyed just now, but if you take this punishment bravely and submissively, it will be all the whipping you will receive tonight… unless, of course, later on you should disobey me in any way.”

“Oh, I won't, I promise truly I won't, Master. Please don't whip after this. I just couldn't stand it,” I sobbed.

“Let me feel your lips kissing my cock, then, and prepare yourself for the hairbrush on your pretty plump naked backside, my dear,” he warned, and, conquering all my repugnance and my dying shame, my eyes desperately closed, I forced my lips to press against his… thing. It was not hard as before, though still stiff and warm.

I started convulsively as a searing fire shot through one of my bottom cheeks. He had begun to spank and now I was sorry I had forgotten to pull my nightdress up first and earned my poor bottom eight more hard blows from that stinging hairbrush. All the burning of his hand spanking was revived and tears began to run down my cheeks as he applied a second, blistering smack of the hairbrush's flat back to the other cheek of my hindquarters, saying as he did so, “Kiss it, I say, many times and all over it. Remember, I can give you more than twenty spanks if you don't carry out this order properly, Lucille.”

Feverishly, overcoming my pride, my repugnance, and my distress at being compelled to perform this indecent task on the most intimate part of his naked body, a thing I had never even dreamed of and certainly would never have done to a man under normal circumstances-no, not even if I were married-I obeyed Lester Raleigh, and as my trembling, sobbing lips frantically moved over his… thing… applying hesitant, trembling kisses to his organ… the noisy cracks of the hairbrush resounded as he whacked my suffering, swollen, furiously inflamed bottom with a harshness that made me cry out and twist my lips wildly from side to side, sometimes even lowering them in a useless but instinctive effort to escape the range of those welting strokes. Hoarsely, he directed me now, after some ten of the blows, to use my tongue up and down upon his… cock… and to keep my backside well in the air unless I wanted extra spanks to be added to my count. My fingers worked back and forth along the sides of the footstool. I was crying like a little girl in pain as each new furious smack flattened and burned and gnawed at the cheeks of my twisting, jerking bottom. And as I obeyed him and swept my tongue haphazardly along his… thing… I felt it hardening and growing hot and rigid… and I knew with a terrible, sinking despair and shame that it was to be used in my secret flesh to have his way with me.

Excited as he was by spanking me while making me lick his private parts, he put such energy into the last five spanks that I screamed with pain and begged him sobbingly to end my punishment, that I was ready to do everything he wanted if he would only have mercy on my burning swollen bottom. But he gave me the full count of twenty spanks as he promised. And I crouched, wavering and trembling, exhausted with pain and emotions of shame and terror, sobbing heartbrokenly, my bottom on fire and twisting long after he had stopped smacking it with the hairbrush.

“That's enough.” He stopped my indecent and repugnant task at last, to my intense relief. “Now you may kneel up, but keep your nightdress pulled up over your waist and face me, Lucille,” he said. When I obeyed, my face very red and bathed in tears, sobbing uncontrollably from the fires he had kindled in my naked swollen behind, he asked me ironically if it really hurt as much as that, as he thought he had been generous in remitting part of the punishment really owing to me. I was so frightened at this intimation that I promised servilely that I was now ready to do everything he wished and… and I begged him… to… to poke me instead of spanking me any more. He made me kiss the back of the hairbrush and then the hand that had wielded it against my fiery seat, and thank him for giving me such a good yet generous lesson in behavior. Then, tossing the brush away, he ordered, “Now, my dear, once more I mean to test your submissive-ness. Get up, turn around with your back to me, then sit down slowly with your legs straddling over mine, and take my cock into your lovely little pussy. As you do so, keep that nightdress well up with one hand, and use the other to guide my cock where it needs to go, thanks to the sweet and humble salutations you just gave me.” I was stupefied by this shameful order, but he quickly added, “Remember, my dear, you said you would do anything to show your submissiveness, and if you now disobey, I will conclude that all the previous discipline I have been giving you has been wasted and will have to take sterner measures.”

I had no choice, my face burning with shame and wet with tears, I turned my back to him, keeping my black silk nightdress held up over my waist with one trembling hand and slowly lowered my throbbing, inflamed bottom, wincing with the shooting, gnawing pains that hurt as I moved each time. And with the other hand I felt for his… thing, discovering that he had slipped over it one of those protectives which he had used my first night in his home. I managed, with his humiliating and condescendingly endearing instructions, to grasp his stiff… thing… and direct it into me… there… and then he grasped me round the waist and drew me down slowly, surely down on him. I grasped and writhed in pain as I felt myself opened by his hard remorseless organ. The laceration of the first terrible act was noticeable but I found I could bear it. And besides my dread of Mr. Raleigh quite prevented my making the least protest. At last I was seated astride his lap, my back to him, his hands feeling my panting breasts and I felt him driven into me to the very extent. He then ordered me to rise up and down, but slowly and not too far, taking care not to let, “my cock slip out of your sweet tight little pussy, or else I shall have to give your naughty backside a few spanks with the bristles of your hairbrush, Lucille.”

And as I had not the least desire to acquaint my poor aching swollen flesh with that unusual and certainly atrocious means of correction, I did my best to please him. He kept squeezing and playing with my breasts and made me put my hands on his hips to steady myself while I worked myself up and down on his… thing… And he became excited and told me what a lovely girl I was becoming and how a good whipping also made a girl passionate in bed with a man, just as it had made Selena. He told me that I would soon learn to be a better lover than either Rosa or Selena, and that I was much nicer to spank because my reactions and the way my white-skinned bottom reddened delighted him, so if I wished to avoid turning my bottom over his lap too often, I had best find ways to make him quite satisfied with me. He ordered me to put my tongue out to rub against his while I continued my up and down movements. The fiery torment of my bottom made my movements quite uncontrollable and nervous, and he praised me, saying indecently that it showed what I was really a very “hot” pussied little girl who needs her bottom well warmed to make her pussy the same for a man. Then he asked me if I was feeling any pleasure from his stiff cock, “which your own sweet little mouth and tongue made that way for your lovely tight little pussy…” And I stammered in terrible embarrassment that my bottom hurt me so I was hardly conscious of anything else, and then I dared to ask him if he couldn't… love… me without whipping me because if he were kind to me I certainly could care for him much more. This angered him, because he pinched my breasts and replied when I cried out in pain that as his ward and slave girl, my only duty was to please and obey him and that if he chose to undertake improving my naughty character by spanking me, I had only to submit myself humbly and gratefully for the trouble he took with me, and also that if I ever asked him for a thing like that again, I would find myself getting the worst spanking my naked bottom ever had. I kept quiet then and continued my movements till suddenly, with a cry, his teeth bit into my shoulder and his hands gripped my sore bottom till I screamed and I felt him thrust up hard into me and then with a bursting sensation vibrated in my vitals as he cried that he was “coming” and I was to “wriggle that big red backside as much as you can or I'll make it wriggle with the strap, Lucille.” And I obeyed, sobbing with my pain and shame, till at last he sighed with his pleasure and relaxed his hold of my pain-racked, shuddering body. Then he lifted me off him, told me to go wash and get ready for bed and he would tuck me in. And he left the room to go to his own bathroom while I half-faintingly went to mine and washed my face with cold water, for I was too weak and shivery and the feverish throbbing of my poor bottom almost made me scream. The suffering about on his legs while I… did what he wanted had brought all the pain of my spanking back again.

When I came back, he was waiting for me, stark naked except for his sandals, and he made me kneel down and kiss his cock, from which he had removed the covering used during his possession of my body. It was limp now and I was afraid my kisses-for he demanded I go on for a bit while I held my nightdress up with both hands to show him my well-spanked bottom-would make it hard once again and that would mean a new ordeal of torturing shame for me. But fortunately, he seemed to be quite pleased with my behavior, as he put it mockingly, and then told me, “I may slip into your bed and wake you up in the morning, my dear, so go to sleep without your nightdress. Take it off now and then put your arms around me, hug me, and give me an affectionate kiss and thank me for letting you off a severe punishment tonight and promise me you are going to try to be a very good obedient little girl.”

I did as he wished, though I could hardly look at him, and my face was a burning red as I stood up against him, naked as he was, and kissed him on the mouth and stammered my thanks and my promises of obedience for the future in the way I knew he wanted. While I did this, he put his hands on my throbbing, sore bottom and squeezed and molded and played with the cheeks, making me start and squirm involuntarily against him, and he muttered, “You bold little hussy! I believe you're trying to coax me to stay in bed with you. But I've had enough for now, so you go to sleep and maybe, if you're a good girl, I'll wake you up in the morning.” With this he gave me a smart slap on the bottom that made me gasp in pain, and, lifting me up in his arms, kissing my breasts as he did so, carried me to my bed and tucked me in. Then, as a farewell embrace, he leaned over me and made me take his… thing… in both hands and give it a kiss and then pass my tongue over it. At last he left me, shuddering with my mortification and nervous fatigue, my bottom still throbbing painfully, and I lay there for some time before I could fall asleep, hopelessly knowing that I was only a slave and plaything for him and that he would and meant to take every right a man can over a girl in his complete power.

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