armchair as he had before when he punished me, and said, “Put yourself across my lap, Lucille, by yourself. I expect you by this time to be submissive and to know exactly what I require in the way of obedience. I trust I shan't have to employ sterner measures as I did at first.”
“Oh, no. I–I'll do everything you order, M-Master,” I stammered as I made my way to him. And I had, of my own accord, to lie down across his knees, which somehow this time felt more shameful and humiliating than when he turned me across his lap as he had previously done. For it seemed I was actively preparing myself for this intense and painful humiliation.
I gripped the legs of the chair with my hands as I bowed my head and waited, trembling and with closed eyes, for the spanking, but he did not at once begin. Instead, he passed both hands over the cheeks of my bottom quite slowly, pressing, patting, and caressing my naked flesh till I was in an agony of outraged modesty and embarrassment. Then he said at last, “Hm, your lovely bottom is almost itself again, my dear. There are a few faint lines from the martinet which I used on those plump cheeks of yours Wednesday night, but aside from that your backside has that charming soft white color I enjoyed turning to a good spanking red. This time, since your fault was one I can tolerantly understand and hadn't warned you about before I am not going to use the martinet on your behind, but you are going to get a sound spanking just the same, partly to make you continue to remember that you must always be humbly submissive and never repeat a mistake I have once corrected you for. Then too, as I have not yet given you a real spanking, which is with the hand, I am going to start your punishment with a thorough manual correction. And now that you have exchanged views with the servants, I imagine you will be even more careful than in the past about letting them hear your cries. Are you ready for your spanking, Lucille?”
“Y-yes M-Master… I–I'm terribly sorry I–I did wrong.” I tried to soften him so he wouldn't spank too hard, because even if my bottom wasn't discolored any more after the other two nights, I knew it was still very sensitive and tender.
“That's the proper attitude, my dear,” he approved, gliding his palms over my shivering and contracting naked bottom, “but I find it more sincere and convincing if a naughty little girl is having her lovely backside spanked at the same time she is thinking it. So now you may prepare yourself for the first part of your punishment tonight, Lucille.”
With this, curving his left arm around my bare waist, a precaution he had not taken before, probably because, as he had said, he wanted to see if I showed absolute submission by staying in position, he brought his other hand down hard on one of my bare upturned cheeks with a loud and stinging smack. The shame of this and the reaction on my nerves from these first days in his power and the recent scene with the servant girls must have tautened my nerves a good deal, for I burst into tears at once.
“I had no idea your naughty behind was so sensitive as that, my dear,” he chided me mockingly as he patted the cheek he had just spanked, tightening his other arm around my naked waist. “I am afraid in that case you will have plenty of reason to cry during your chastisement, and you must not think that you will beg yourself off by doing so. Or perhaps I had better tie you. If you are going to cry at the very first spank, you may find it difficult to stay in position before I finish.”
This calm threat utterly terrified me, and, looking back up at him with tear-stained face, I gasped, “Oh, Master, please don't tie me up. I'll not beg off, I promise I won't. Please don't tie me.”
“Then you'll remain in position through the good sound spanking I am going to give your naked backside, Lucille?” he asked, again patting my bottom at the place he had first smacked.
It was fearfully embarrassing to have to carry on such a humiliating conversation while lying naked across a man's lap about to be spanked and already stinging with a foretaste of what I was going to get. But I couldn't risk making him angry, and so I stammered, “Yes, I will, Master. It-it-it's only that seeing you… seeing you whip Selena frightened me so and… and my b-bottom is still awfully uncomfortable from… from the other time.”
“I thought as much. Then perhaps, seeing how sensitive your flesh is, my dear, you'll take particular care not to make me whip you too often. Because if I have to punish you too frequently, I can only think that you are naturally disobedient, which would mean severe discipline. Now get ready, Lucille, and remember to stay in position.”
“Y-yes M-Master.”
I gasped faintly as I turned my face around again and closed my eyes, crossing my ankles one over the other and waiting miserably for the stinging hail of blows to visit my shrinking bottom. There was something else that was making me feel even more ashamed of getting this spanking than any he had given me before and that was that, although I was naked across his lap, I wore shoes and stockings, something which I can't quite explain, made me feel more shamefully displayed than if I had been all bare.
He began to spank me rather slowly now, keeping his left arm tight round my waist, first smacking one cheek, then the other. This time, though, he didn't scold and lecture me as he had done the previous times, which rather surprised me. But the spanking was not less mild because of that. Though the regularity of the blows on first one cheek of my bottom and then the other enabled me to prepare myself for the next to come, still the vigor of his hand and the long pauses between spanks became very painful to me, and I was crying softly by the time he had reached twenty, crossing and uncrossing my ankles restlessly, huddling my bottom and trying to diminish the area of naked tender reddening flesh so helplessly and shamefully upturned to him. I held onto the legs of the chair with my hands and kept my eyes closed. I was somehow relieved at being able to do this and know he wasn't looking at my face to see if I was crying. Mr. Raleigh stopped a little while and ran his hand over the cheeks of my bare bottom while I squirmed with shame and the increasing heat in my seat, controlling my sobs so as not to offend him and to show him humbly I was being docile and submissive just as he wanted. His hand seemed to quiver as it stroked my bottom, and I was nervous because of his strange new behavior, wondering what new torture it portended for me. At last he said in a hoarse voice, “Your bottom is getting quite red, my dear, but you needn't think I've finished punishing it by any means. Does it hurt by now?”
“Y-yes M-Master,” I murmured, dying of shame to have to answer such embarrassing and humiliating questions.
“As much as when I used the strap on your plump backside, my dear?”
His hand kept moving back and forth along my trembling bare behind, and, knowing I had to answer him no matter how much my modesty or pride suffered, I stammered in a low voice, “N-no M-Master… not as much as then. But your hand s-stings a lot.”
“Good, then the correction is effective. I had asked myself whether using just the hand on such a plump pretty backside as yours, so firm and solid, my dear, would make itself felt enough so you would know you are being punished. Tell me, Lucille, did your parents ever spank you with just their hands as I am doing now?”
“Wh-when I was a little g-girl, yes M-Master.” Oh, wouldn't he please finish it, I was dying to beg him. This was so humiliating that tears stung my eyes and I huddled my legs together and tensed myself, while his hand kept going back and forth, slowly, oh, so slowly, over my tingling naked flesh.
“When did they start to use the switch or strap, Lucille?”
“I… wh-when I–I… think it was when I was… f-fourteen, Master.”
I was getting more and more ashamed and afraid of him because of this strange behavior. I wanted it to be over… and… and know… what he was going to do… after that.
“They never whipped you stark naked, though, Lucille?”
“Oh, n-no, Master.
That seemed to please him, for he chuckled as he patted both my cheeks again and said briskly, “Then it seems I was really the first to begin your proper disciplinary education, and explain why you are such a naughty girl, my dear. Now get your lovely backside ready, for I'm not nearly through spanking you with my hand.”
“Y-yes M-Master I–I-I'm… ready,” I groaned as I tensed my fingers on the legs of the chair and crossed my ankles again to steel myself. With this, again increasing the tight band of his left arm over my waist, he resumed spanking me, and with what seemed more harshness than before, for after four or five of these smacks, I began to cry again and my heels kicked up spasmodically every time his hard stinging palm landed on the cheeks of my furiously smarting bottom. However, he used the same regularity and time in between spanks, so I was able to grit my teeth and prepare for it, though the burning grew more and more acute as his hand tirelessly descended on my smarting reddening flesh.
“Oh, please,” I sobbed, when he had given me thus some twenty new spanks, “I'll be submissive and obey you. I won't ever feel sorry for the servants when you whip them, Master… Please don't spank me anymore tonight. My bottom's so awfully sore.”
