equipped with stout straps, they also held her very securely. While they bent her over the first hurdle, the men drew her arms out at full stretch in front of her and fastened them down by the wrist-cuffs on the further hurdle. This bar on which her wrists were pinioned could be raised or lowered. By lowering it, the gaoler would be able to make Noreen bend over very tightly indeed. It was only to be expected that he would want to do that so that the girl offered a more sexually suggestive target for the whip. It was important that he should feel randy while punishing Noreen for that would ensure she was whipped soundly. The hurdle which supported her belly had a harness strap quite three inches broad. They tightened this round her bare waist to hold her firmly down. Bending over like this, Noreen was made to present a most provoking and full-cheeked rear view. The faded washed-out jeans-denim was excitingly tight and smooth over the broadened mounds of her buttocks. The sight which she offered would have made any man a disciplinarian 1 She flicked back the dark spilling hair, and the slant of her brown eyes under her level fringe shone with hatred for the three men. One man smiled, standing behind her. His hands began to feel and fondle her rear cheeks through the skin-tight jeans-seat.
Noreen panted and twisted, trying in vain to evade his stroking. He chuckled as he felt her through the smooth denim. “Did you never have men feeling you like this at your work, Noreen? You'll get plenty of it here, I promise you! I must just feel between the back of your legs. Ah, yes! A nice soft swell of pussy-flesh in your pants! Now the cheeks of your strapping young bottom, Noreen! You're wearing panties underneath, aren't you, Noreen? I can just feel the outline of some tight-fitting briefs. Did you think the justices might let you wear your cotton briefs while you were whipped, Noreen? Why, mat would spoil the fun for them! You'll have your panties taken down, never fear. You must feel the snakeskin lash on your bare bottom!” The men left her with the flutter of panic in her young belly growing to real fright. The gaoler made her wait for half an hour in this torment of suspense. Then he arrived and chose two whips from the table. One was a leather switch about four feet long, slim and wickedly supple.
The other was the woven snakeskin of the short pony-lash. Without speaking to her, he undid Noreen's riding-jeans at the waist. She twisted her legs, gasping and struggling to prevent him stripping her, but he wrenched the denim down and off. Soon Noreen's knickers also lay in an untidy tangle round her ankles. The gaoler studied the broad-cheeked pallor of Noreen's bottom as she bent over the hurdles.
He smiled as he glimpsed her sex at the rear of her thighs. Then he spoke to her. “Later on I'll make you bend over even tighter, Noreen. I want you to look as big-bottomed as possible when I whip you. There's no need for pretence here. I shall very much enjoy thrashing you. I'll bend you tighter presently so that you show much more between the backs of your legs. And I'll want your bottom-cheeks stretched hard apart so that I can see everything between them while I whip you, Noreen!” While he was talking to her, two stable-lads slipped into the vault. They hid by the buttresses, having a rear view of Noreen, so that the girl saw them every time she twisted her head round. The younger lad was still shy. He stood facing the wall, watching Noreen over his shoulder. His hands were clasped in his lap and he seemed to be holding some trinket which he polished vigorously.
The older boy unbuttoned proudly and directed Noreen's gaze to the fine stiffness which he held in his hand. The insolence in her brown eyes gave way to dismay as he showed it to her so openly. He wanted Noreen to know that he was greatly excited by her bare rear view and that he was eagerly looking forward to seeing the shopgirl's backside dance to the tune of the whip! The gaoler flexed the supple length of his leather switch. “Now get arse- upwards over the hurdle, Noreen, you young tart! Get right over it! Properly! To enforce this, he lowered the forward hurdle bar to which her wrists were strapped, making the nineteen-year-old girl bend over more tightly. This caused the robust pale mounds of Noreen's buttocks to be pulled apart a little more. There were smiles of amusement from the onlookers as they glimpsed the little flag of paper peeping out between Noreen's bum-cheeks. The two stable-lads pumped their stiffnesses still harder with excitement at this. These young scamps would greatly have enjoyed making Noreen submit to various indignities of the toilet and hoped that they would soon have the chance. The remarks of the worthy magistrates who watched left Noreen in no doubt that we had seen the vulgar sight she offered! Was it anger or humiliation which caused the glow at the points of her broad cheekbones? She sometimes wears her lank dark hair in a collar-length pony-tail and the gaoler now gathered it back in this style and slipped a rubber band round it to hold it. One could now see the slant of resentment in her brown eyes and the defiant resolve in the line of her chin and firm young features. “The justices must see your face while you're being thrashed, Noreen,” the gaoler said. “They like to see how you're taking it. All the men and women here approve of a really pitiless whipping given to a young trollop like you with such a strapping young bottom!” The handle of the four-foot leather switch was thick as his thumb but the whip tapered to a point that was fine as a pencil tip. Smiling, he touched the back of Noreen's thigh, high up, with the quiveringly fine bobble-tip of the whip. We smiled as well to see how she flinched from the cold menace of the leather.
For a little while longer he teased the nineteen-year-old wench, stroking the whip gently down each bare flank of her hips. When Noreen bends or kneels forward on all fours at her work, her hips have that natural feminine slope which broadens downwards to the top of her legs. As he caressed her with the leather switch one could hear the light sounds of her legs smoothing together in panic and the heavier breathing of her fright. Then, as if a signal had been given, we knew the punishment was about to begin. All smiles faded and each mouth was tightened in severity. The gaoler's voice was hard and humourless. “You fat-arsed young tart, Noreen! Fifty strokes of the whip across your bare bottom-cheeks to begin with! Bend right over and keep your backside facing the magistrates!” Without waiting for her response, he raised the quivering switch high behind his shoulder. Light flashed from the polished leather as he brought it down with ear-stunning force across the pale fattened cheeks of Noreen's backside. To our delight, Noreen's gasp of anguish at the impact rose to a wild cry as the torment swelled to a climax over several seconds. At the moment when the ferocity of the first whip-smack reached its fullest, the gaoler brought the whip down again across the squirming cheeks of Noreen's bottom in a still more vicious stroke. Though she was a strong and broad-hipped girl, the searching intensity of the redoubled smart paralysed Noreen in sound and movement! Her hands were clenched into fists, her leg-muscles tightened as with cramp, and she was up on her toes with the exquisite white fire of the lash. Far from allowing her a respite, the gaoler touched the switch lightly, aiming across the lower and fatter swell of the young saddle-dresser's buttocks. He knew how sensitive that softer fullness of Noreen's backside would be. With savage accuracy he made that pallid fatness jump under the whip's impact.
With rapid strokes, he whipped her again-again-and yet again-across that sensitive undercurve. Noreen screamed and writhed, her shrillness quickening the excitement of the watching justices. She twisted her face round, her brown eyes wider and her mouth distended in the wildness of her cries. It was only to be expected that the gaoler should want to make Noreen scream as the whip caught her backside. Her shrillness was a tribute to his art. As a disciplinarian he was also bound to enjoy whipping her-cruelly low across her buttocks with the leather switch. Indeed, he now aimed the quivering wand across the light flesh-crease dividing her buttocks and upper thighs. To hear a robust young wench like Noreen shriek as she did then is a rare experience. No wonder the gaoler whipped hard again across the rising weal he had just inflicted. The ladies of fashion smiled privately behind their fans as they watched all this. Each gentleman-magistrate now felt the front of his trousers growing uncomfortably tight and longed to unbutton such stiffness. The stable-lads were more fortunate, watching Noreen's short pony-tail of dark hair sweep her collar as she twisted her face round and yelled frantically for a respite. Concealed from their elders but close behind the bending girl, the lads met the frenzy in Noreen's brown eyes with open-mouthed delight. Each of them urged her to look at his fine handful which he pumped vigorously. “Turn your arse towards us properly, Noreen! Lets have a good look at those whip-marks on your bum-cheeks! He's given you some real beauties across your fat young arse, Noreen! I'd love to change places with him for half an hour!
He's cut your bottom twice with the riding-switch, Noreen!… Was it old Bowler who poked the paper up into your backside, Noreen? I bet it makes the old magistrates randy to see you like that! They enjoy making you look like a rude girl!… Open your legs and show us between them… Bend over tightly so that the whip cuts your bottom, Noreen! You'll be a pretty sight when they finish with you… I hope they leave you alone with us, Noreen!” The switch smacked peremptorily across Noreen's bottom. Her fattened young backside writhed and surged on the bar. One did not blame a gaoler's severity, seeing the sight the girl offered. Noreen's buttocks were interlaced by plum- coloured weals, which naturally made the gaoler want to be truly sadistic with her. When a well-built and insolent girl of nineteen like Noreen shows such brand-marks of the whip across her bare arse, no true moralist takes pity on her. The sight of the whip's weals across her bottom-cheeks show him how badly she needs to be corrected and the sight of Noreen's bum-cheeks in such a state would be bound to put certain cruel ideas into his mind. To have Noreen's bottom-cheeks smarting so untouchably from the whip and then to have the chance of thrashing her hard in such a responsive state would be an excitement for many men and even some women! One also excuses the
