and mortification for my hour to come. And at last it did, at about the same time. The girls came to my room, and, this time feverishly impatient to get it over with as quickly as I could, I had already anticipated them and taken off all my clothes and was sitting on my bed, my face red with shame and quivering with despair and tension.
When Selena seated herself in the chair, I got off the bed, thinking to go to the dresser and get the hairbrush as before. But Rosa spoke up nervously. “Mis' Lucille, Mr. Raleigh he just call a few minutes ago an' he asked me about last night. I told him you took the-the sp-spanking like a good girl, and he say that's fine, but he tell me Selena, she suppose to use the strap on-on-you tonight. And you have to bring it to her from his bedroom, Mis' Lucille an-an kneel down and give it to her and tell her what it's for…”
“Oh, Rosa, Rosa, no, oh please-oh… oh… let me wait till tomorrow morning, please, I beg of you,” I sobbed, wringing my hands in my desolate shame at this alteration of my unjust and degrading “discipline.”
“Oh, I'll gladly take a harder spanking from him, and I'll tell him I refused to let you spank me and fought you-”
“Uh uh, Mis' Lucille, I can't do that nohow, honey. Mr. Raleigh tells me he knows you going to want me to do that, and we supposed to tie you down if you don't obey what he tell you to do. An' then tomorrow, if he find out you dort't obey, he going to have you tied up and make Selena and me whip you with the martinet, Mis' Lucille… You better do just like he says, honey, cause I know how that awful martinet hurts a girl's bottom.” And that reference to the time the girl had soothed my cruelly whipped bottom after he had taken his unnatural will of me made me weep harder. Hardly seeing from the tears in my streaming eyes, I went to his bedroom, got the black leather strap which he had first used on me as I knelt tied up on that backless chair the first awful night, and returned to my room sobbing and trembling as I knew what shameful ritual I had to perform now.
I knelt down, holding up the strap to Selena, who had taken her place in the armchair, and tearfully sobbed, “H-here is the strap Mr.-Mr. Raleigh wants you to-to spank me with to-to keep me obedient, S-Selena.”
“Yes, Mis' Lucille. Now you get over my lap and Rosa she hold your hands so you won't roll off, Mis' Lucille he say if you do so, we have to tie you and give you lots more punishment for that. Mis' Lucille honey, please be a good girl and be brave. I don't mean nohow to do this to you, you know that,” Selena told me huskily.
And once again I took that degrading, juvenile, embarrassing position across the lap of the young girl, felt her slim arm grasp round my bare shivering waist, and Rosa grip my trembling hands…
Then the strap began to blaze its way across the twin cheeks of my upturned helpless bottom. I tried to be encouraged, but the hard spanking of the night before coupled with my mortification at this way of being punished by servants-for I could not tell myself they were more than this, no matter how kind and sweet they really were- destroyed my stoicism. And soon I was crying and twisting and kicking my bare legs haphazardly as Selena impassively cracked the wicked flexible leather strap over my bottom, back and forth from top to base, just as Rosa had used the hairbrush. But the strap, smacking as it did each time across both my hindquarters, agonized me a good deal more, and I jerked at my held hands and turned my head around to beg Selena for mercy by the time she had given my poor bottom twenty-five strokes. It was Rosa then who told me I must grit my teeth and bear it, for my spanking wasn't near over and that Mr. Raleigh had said he thought that fifty was a proper amount for a naughty little girl to get… And those words of his which I knew to be convincingly his own, repeated by her, made me sob and weep like a child as I lay squirming and trembling over Selena's slim lap. She resumed the whipping after a pause, gently asking me if I was ready, and I begged her feverishly to hurry and finish it just as quickly as she could because my bottom hurt me terribly still from last night. She only said she had her orders and I would have to be submissive and try not to get off her lap. “But Mr. Raleigh said I could cry as much as I wished.” And that ironic, cruel remark of my master-for there is no other name for him now-brought a new crisis of sobs, interrupted harshly by the resumption of the noisy burning cracks of the strap in Selena's slim strong young hand.
The heat in my poor bottom became intolerable. I kicked my legs wildly, heedless of the shameful exposures of my person that I made. I turned my head back constantly to sob for mercy, to implore her not to whip me so hard, as I knew my poor flesh was just as red already as it had been last night after the spanking. But she only shook her head and said she had to give me fifty strokes just as she was ordered. And then the horrid strap fell on my writhing, convulsing, flaming bottom again and again, while I screamed and pleaded uselessly, tugging at my wrists, kicking, trying to roll off her lap-at which she warned me gently, her arm keeping me back in position. And her blows after I had tried that evasion seeming to land harder than ever. I cried. Oh how I cried, bereft now of all pride and courage, under the fiery searing of the smacking leather thong. Till at last through my tears and sobs, I heard Rosa say, “That's fifty now, Selena honey. Let Mis' Lucille up so she could thank you. That what Mr. Raleigh ordered.”
And again, though I could hardly stand erect, so furiously did my poor bottom burn and smart, I had to go down on my quaking knees and sob out my formula of gratitude for this degrading and painful humiliation.
CHAPTER 5: MR. RALEIGH RETURNS
The next morning Mr. Raleigh returned home in great good humor, and summoned me into the library, where he told me he had brought a good many things for me, as well as food and paint supplies, some new books, and other things for me. “So, please be good enough at once to take off your dress and slip and let down your panties and come lie across my lap so I can inspect that plump lovely naughty backside of yours.”
Flushing hotly with shame, tears in my eyes, I obeyed him silently and soon was draped submissively in that position I had come by now to detest, as to my mind it is the most humiliating a mature woman or girl can take, especially with a man whose sole concern is for his own greedy satisfaction at one's suffering and shame.
He pinched my bottom annoyingly, patting and caressing it alternately as well as pinching. Each cheek received its full, prolonged, and atrociously humiliating inspection, and he at last said, “Yes, it's still quite red. I trust Rosa and Selena spanked you hard, Lucille dear?”
“Oh… oh yes, Master… terribly hard.”
“Which was the worst, the hairbrush or the strap?” he continued, stroking my naked hips as I quivered and blushed violently.
“The-the strap last night, M-Master,” I stammered feverishly, feeling my naked flesh crawl and prickle with apprehension and shame under his appraising, sly caresses.
“I see. The girls tell me you behaved very well considering, and I'm delighted to hear it. For if you hadn't, I'd have been forced to give you a really serious whipping, my dear. Now I want you to come to my room with me and try on some of the lovely things I bought for you.”
This was at least a novelty which, from the feminine viewpoint, I could take delight in… I could, save for the fact that Mr. Raleigh would watch me dress and undress, with no secrets hidden from his rapacious, knowing, eager eyes.
And that indeed proved to be the case. I spent a long, terribly mortifying hour in his room, modeling dance sets of lovely black and white satin, sheer black stockings attached by the narrow taut tabs of a white satin garter belt he had purchased for me, slips and high-heeled pumps of various colors, lovely dresses whose only flaw in my eyes was that their skirts were very short, coming down just to the knees. Also, he had some gaily colored rosettes, or French garters, for me such as the maids wore. The panties, too, were quite immodest, being very tight, some open and some closed, and very brief, especially several pairs of white jersey net which fitted my bottom and hips like a glove and showed off a good deal of the lower part of my behind. He made me take several spanking poses wearing just these and black silk stockings, red rosettes, and high-heeled pumps. I had to grasp my ankles and thrust my trembling, taut bottom up before him as he sat in his deep armchair, kneel down with my head between his legs while he patted my bottom playfully and told me how pretty it was and how these tight brief panties showed every curve of it and made a spanking more delicious, because with white panties like these he could spank me a very long time without having to worry about how red my naked bottom got. And he advised me not to give him any cause to want to experiment with that. I had to lie across his lap, my breasts bare while he felt them and my bottom at the same time. Then I had to drape myself across the arm of the big chair, kneel in it with my head resting on the back's top and holding on to the back. Also to kneel on a heavy mahogany low coffee table on all fours-in the position I had first had to take for a spanking from him that awful night — while he walked about, smoking a cigarette and making admiring and immodest comments about my body, till my face was burning red
