Naked and frightened, my face red with the shame of being stark naked for the first time in a man's presence alone-at least, before, my parents had been there to protect me, scant though their moral aid had been-I stood in the middle of the room awaiting Mr. Raleigh's next command. I thought he would command me to lie down over his knees or bend over under his left arm, as these were the poses my parents always made me assume when I was whipped in the woodshed. But instead, Mr. Raleigh arose from the chair and came over to me. Grabbing me by the ear, he smacked me across the bottom with the strap and started me across the room to another chair.
It was more like a stool than a chair. It had a heavy cushioned seat and heavy wooden arms. There was no back to it. He made me kneel upon it on my hands and knees. Then, taking four pieces of heavy cord from his pocket, he tied my wrists to the sides of the chair, and then my legs. Instead of starting immediately to whip me, he walked completely around the chair, appraising me from all angles. Being tied up helplessly, I could not resist nor did I think it wise to protest. All the charms of my body were very much on display, and he slapped and pinched me annoyingly with his pain-inflicting hands.
“You have a most attractive backside, my dear,” he finally said. “I am sure it is going to look exceedingly interesting after it has been properly colored up with the strap. We shall see if I am correct.”
As he spoke the last words, he raised the strap and brought it down sharply across my bottom. It was even more sternly given than when I was whipped by my father. I cried out shrilly.
“Remain quiet, my dear,” he ordered. “This behind of yours is going to be whipped, and if you try screaming you will only be attracting the attention of the servants. If you care to have them come and see you tied up naked and being whipped, then just continue to yell. But if you are a wise girl, you will content yourself with sobs and crying.”
That caused me to control my cries, but it was difficult. For the strap rose and fell with stinging force. No smarting my father had even given my bottom equaled it. Mr. Raleigh seemed very adroit in administering a whipping, for each crack of the whip landed just slightly above the spot where the previous one had fallen. I tried to twist and control my hind quarters, for the steady cracks of the strap were outraging the nerves. But with my knees tied to the sides, I could not move a muscle. All I could do was kneel there helplessly, with my rear end projected at the correct angle to receive the full force of every smarting smack he laid on it.
While whipping me, he scolded me, telling me that I was impudent and disobedient, but that I would be an entirely different girl when he got through whipping me. He also told me that I had a very pretty bottom and he was going to enjoy giving it many whippings in the future, so I had better be careful not to give him the least excuse, for he would never lose any time in tying me up and whipping me.
I thought the whipping would never end. Although acutely aware of my nakedness and my helplessness to prevent him from taking any painful spanking liberties he wished, I could not divert my mind from the steady smacking of the whip across my bottom. It grew warmer and warmer until it felt as though blisters were being raised all over the twin cheeks. Tears streamed down my face and I had to bite my lips to hold back the cries of pain. “Oh, please stop, Mr. Raleigh,” I pleaded. “I'll always be obedient to you in the future. I'll always do whatever you tell me. You've taught me to be meek and demure. Please don't whip me any more.”
To my utter dismay, he administered several more cracks without saying a word, drawing new sobs and pleas from me as I twisted and jerked on my chair of suffering. Then, suddenly, he stopped. But instead of untying me, he walked around the chair and stood in front of me. He sat the strap across my bare back, then tilted up my head with one hand.
“So our little girl with the pretty spanked bottom has been crying,” he exclaimed, with a twisted smile. “Are they tears of regret for the disobedience you have shown, or just tears from the smarting your behind has gotten?”
“You whipped me awfully hard,” I replied between sobs, shivering in fear that he might continue the thrashing and also in my terrible embarrassment that I was tied naked and helpless before him, to look at me or do anything else he wanted.
“But naughty girls deserve to be whipped severely,” he declared. “Of course, you haven't been a naughty girl yet, but a good whipping in advance will sometimes keep young girls from doing things they shouldn't. You know the old adage, a spanking in time makes better girls. So I have given you this whipping to make you learn that you must do whatever I tell you and not disobey any orders in the future.”
“But I intend to obey you, Mr. Raleigh,” I replied tearfully.
“Then you know that you have been whipped for your own good?” he said.
“Yes, sir,” I sobbed. I had been whipped so severely, and was so vividly aware of the strap dangling across my bare back and within such easy reach of his hand, that I dared not say anything else.
“Then you should be grateful for it,” he said.
“I am,” I told him, trembling violently over my shame and pain, able to see all my naked body.
“You can kiss me to prove it,” was his next order. Bending to me, he pressed his lips to mine. It was terribly repugnant for me to be made to kiss the man who had just made me strip before him, then had tied me up helpless and severely whipped my bare bottom. But, fearing to anger him, I surrendered my lips to his. My lips were warm and moist from sobbing, and he must have found the added heat interesting, for he prolonged the kiss, and, while cupping my chin in one hand, passed the other over my hair. It is dark brown and I wear it in a Dutch bob, and he played with the row of bangs on each side. My eyes are brown with very long lashes and thick brows and my nose is small-Grecian, my mother told me-with a full mouth and round chin and heart-shaped face. She used, in her few moments of real affection for me, which were rare, to say that I had a lovely white skin and was a real beauty who wouldn't have any trouble finding a husband who could help around the farm-all my parents ever really cared for-with my firm round breasts and legs. But of all the charms of my body, I was, alas, most conscious of my bottom now, and I certainly wished I had not had such a fully developed seat. For that awful strap had bitten into every inch of it and, even while he was kissing me, I couldn't help squirming uncontrollably with the burning the whipping had raised there.
When he at last finished the kiss, he put his hands on my naked breasts, and when I started with a terrified gasp of intense shame, he eyed me intently and said in a stern, hoarse voice: “I fear, my dear, we shall have to demand further evidence of your gratitude. Are you ready to do exactly as you are told, or must I whip you a bit more?” And I felt his fingers tighten painfully on the panting curves of my naked breasts.
“Please don't whip me,” I begged in tears, “I'll be obedient-I'll do whatever you tell me, I swear I will, Mr. Raleigh. Only untie me and don't use that awful strap on my bottom anymore.”
“Hm,” he smiled as he straightened, hands on hips, watching me with a smile of cruelty, of enjoyment, “You really seem to be in earnest, Lucille my dear. Or are you trying to beg off more of the strap?”
“Oh, no, no, oh, please, no, Mr. Raleigh,” I sobbed desperately, “I do mean it, truly, I do. I'll obey you in anything, I swear I will, but don't whip me anymore now. Oh, I couldn't stand that strap anymore, I just couldn't. I haven't disobeyed you. You said yourself I haven't, and I won't. Oh, truly, Mr. Raleigh, just let me go now, oh, please.”
“You plead your case very charmingly, my dear. Very well, I am going to test your obedience. First”-he took the strap from my back, and I uttered a cry of terror-“you'll kiss the strap and thank me for the sound whipping I just gave you, because it's taught you how to be obedient.”
And, trembling as if I had a fever, my tears running down my cheeks to be so humiliated and so afraid, I did just what he asked, stammering out my thanks for his having whipped me so well to make me an obedient girl.
“That's fine,” he approved with a chuckle. “You see, my dear, there's nothing like a whipping even for a grown woman to turn her into a charming, obedient, and dutiful lady. Now I'll untie you… and then, as I said before, I'm going to see just how grateful you are for my having taught you this little lesson.”
With this, he at last untied my arms and legs, and, after helping me down from the chair, picked me up in his arms and carried me over to the bed, laying me down on it. I winced because it hurt my bottom so, even to lie on it. But I watched him with terror, wondering what he was going to do to me and what he meant by how grateful I was…
I did not have long to wait. Oh, my God, he had begun to take off his clothes. Then… then I knew… what he meant by being obedient to him in all things… He… he… was going to h-have me.
I shrank back, and tried to cover myself with my hands as I cried out: “Oh, my God, Mr. Raleigh, what are you going to do to me? Oh, please let me off now, please, it hurts me so from the awful whipping you gave me. Won't you be kind and let me off? I'll be good, I swear I will, but please don't hurt me any more.”
“I intend to be kind to you, my dear,” he said as he continued to undress till he was down to his shorts and socks. And I saw the enormous bulge against the fly of his shorts and I knew now only too well just what he intended to do to me. I was horrified and I had never been so ashamed, but if I struggled and resisted, he was stronger than I and it would only mean a terrible whipping… even if I ran away, I had no money, I couldn't go to my parents. I began to cry.
“If you want some more of the strap, Lucille, just keep that up,” he warned me as he came toward the bed, looking greedily at me.
I had my hand over my spot in front and the other arm clutched over my bare breasts, because all of a sudden I was so horribly embarrassed to be naked before him, much more even than when he had whipped me… “But, oh, for God's sake, please don't do that… t-to me, Mr. Raleigh,” I sobbed pleadingly, “I'm a good girl, I never did a wicked thing like that before… You… you haven't any right to… to… try to f-force me…”
He caught one of my wrists and held it cruelly as he said, “Listen to me, you silly child. I have every right over you, because you're not of age and your parents turned you over to me. Now, if you're sensible and obey me, you won't need to worry about your future. If you run away, you haven't any training to earn your living, and you'd wind up as a girl in a house for every man to have you. But I don't intend to discuss it with you any further. A moment ago, you swore you'd obey me-if this is your idea of obedience, I am going to call the servants and have them tie you up while I use, not a strap but a whip on your naked bottom. Do you prefer that, Lucille? And you'll be whipped every day till you're ready to obey me. As for your parents, even if you had the chance to tell them, which you won't, I can always tell them I intend to marry you, which makes it perfectly proper. Now are you going to obey me, you impertinent little girl, or shall I ring for the servants?” And he twisted my wrists till I writhed in pain, his eyes flashing and cruelly glowing. I was in terror of him.
“Oh, Mr. Raleigh, don't hurt me-oh, I'm afraid-please. Y-yes if… if… I… h-have to… I… I'll do it… only don't whip or hurt me, that's all I ask,” I sobbed in tears.
“That's better-though you still have a good deal to learn about the way a good obedient girl does what she's told. Now take your hands away and make room for me,” he said.
“Oh, won't you turn off the lights?” I gasped, turning red with shame as I saw him move to a little table beside the bed and take out a small packet, extracting a thing like a rubber thumb, while he looked at me shrinking on the bed.
“No,” he said, “You have a magnificent body, Lucille, and I'm an artist who admires the beautiful in woman. There's no reason to be ashamed of your body. It was meant to please a man, just as your bottom was made to be well whipped.”
I covered my face with my hands and burst into tears in despair and shame. Then I felt the bed sink with his weight as he got into it and lay down beside me, and I clenched my bare legs together and sobbed, “Oh, don't hurt me, please, I'm very afraid… and… and… y-you'll g-give me… a… b-baby.”
“So you are a virgin as I thought, eh, my dear? Of course you are. There'll be no baby, though, don't worry about that. I've taken precautions. Now turn over to me, put your arms around me and kiss me hard, or I'll give you a worse whipping than you just had,” he said.
His voice was hoarse and angry and excited, and I was trembling so much and my eyes were so full of tears I didn't have any strength to disobey or resist him… So… I obeyed.
My mouth was crushed down by his as I passively put my arms about him, he turning me on my side to him as he lay on his side, and at once he began to feel my naked flesh, caressing my back and shoulders, my sides, and then my breasts, which he squeezed and molded a good deal while he kissed me. He ordered me to lie closer to him so my bare legs could press his… and when I did, I felt… his… hard… thing… prodding me against my belly and legs. I uttered a little cry of shame and tried to move away, but he slipped his left arm round my shoulders and his right hand forced against my inflamed burning bottom to keep me in position while he said angrily, “Try that again, and you go back on the whipping chair, Lucille. Now open your lips when you kiss me, you lovely obstinate little piece. I'll tame you, never fear. I'll make you admit I'm your master…” Agonized with fear that was even more than the shame I felt at this indecent lying naked next to him, I obeyed, and I felt his tongue dart between my trembling moist warm lips and move around, while the hand he had on my bottom roamed about, pinching lightly, patting, and stroking. I tried to arch myself away from… the thing… that kept prodding me, but whenever he felt that, he just pressed hard against my bottom and made me move closer to him. He kept kissing and using his tongue now all the time, and he put his left arm round my neck to lock me to him so I couldn't escape, while I had to keep my left arm thrown round his shoulder and my other hand squeezed against his chest. He began to rub himself slowly against me… I felt his… hard… thing… glide over my belly and my bare thighs and then it touched… my spot… and I gasped in shame and clenched my legs together as much as I could. “Don't resist me if you know what's good for you, Lucille,” he growled, pinching my sore bottom so hard I almost screamed, and kissed me harder than ever, while he brought his right hand up to play with my bare breasts this time.
“Put your right hand down and feel my cock, Lucille,” he said to me suddenly, and I wanted to die of shame. How I wished my parents had loved me a little more and not sold me like a slave to a man who was cruel and merciless to a helpless girl.
“Oh… pl-please… d-don't make me do that, Mr. Raleigh,” I sobbed. “Please… oh, how can I… I never did such a thing in all my life… Oh, please, I'm a decent girl, how can you want me to do such a thing?”
“Because I order you to do it, that's why, and because, now that you are my ward, I expect obedience no matter what your thoughts or feelings are. Otherwise, you'll be whipped till you come to your senses. Now-are you going to put your hand on my cock or aren't you?”
Closing my eyes and shuddering violently, I reached down… and took hold of… what he called his cock… I felt that there was something thin and glossy over the head of it, and I supposed that was what he meant by saying he had taken precautions… but I was so terrified and shamed and suffering from the feverish heat in my bare bottom that I hardly knew what I was doing.
“That's it,” he gasped eagerly, kissing me very hard and fondling my breast with his left hand now, while his right went back to force my bottom so that I lay tight against him, side by side, on the bed. “Stroke it very slowly and lightly down to the roots, Lucille. Get it ready to poke you… So you've never been poked between those lovely bare legs, eh, you pretty, impudent, naughty little girl?”
“Oh, no, no. Oh, I beg you, w-won't you be s-satisfied now… and let me go, Mr. Raleigh?” I sobbed as I hesitantly grasped and stroked his hard… thing. It was throbbing now… just as my poor bottom was… and I was dying of shame… Would my father and mother have let him do this shameful thing to me, if they had known? But what could I do now?
“I am becoming angry with you, my dear, and let me hear just one more protest of any kind tonight and you'll regret it and so will that lovely bare behind of yours,” was his cruel answer.
“Oh-pl-please-I… I'll do what you say… but… oh… I… d-don't… know what you… w-want me… t-to do… Please, I… I'll try my best to please you, only… only, I… I've never done a thing like this ever before,” I sobbed in my shame and despair.
“I'll tell you what to do, never fear,” he laughed thickly, squeezing my breast and bottom with a liberty and greediness that made me die of embarrassment. I wished with all my heart I had not been pretty, as then I would not have made him want to buy me from my parents and whip and terrorize me into this wicked thing.
He made me open my lips again so he could run his tongue into my mouth, and I felt his panting breath on my face. I held his… thing — I could not bring myself to use the ugly word he referred to it by-in my hand and the other arm lay about his neck… just as if we were a happily married couple on our wedding night. But every inch of my body was cringing from contact with him. It was not that he was not handsome and refined, but his cruelty to me, his obsession with wanting to see me whipped and whipping me himself, had made him utterly repugnant to me as a man. And then too, I had never had even a sweetheart to kiss me or anything. My mother had, in a crude way, told me how children were born and I had seen the animals around the farm. But nothing had prepared me for tonight.
What I feared about him, I think-apart from his cruelty in whipping me as he had, of course- and… and this… was his way of showing his anger. He was a hypocrite, for he hardly raised his voice and used endearments even when he proposed the most outrageous things. And this control and composure frightened me far more than an outburst would have done, as I believed he was capable of the most ruthless things if I disobeyed him.
I could only pray now that he would… do what he wanted to me… and then leave me to my shame and tears. But he prolonged this… a victory for him, I suppose, because he fondled and kissed me, told me how lovely I was, and began to be specific about my naked charms. “You have perfectly beautiful titties, Lucille,” he told me as he squeezed my breasts and flattened the nipples with his palms, putting his tongue back and forth into my mouth with the freedom utterly of a man who owned an animal he had bought at auction. “That's the word for these ripe round firm breasts of yours, you know. You must learn all the words and all the acts I teach you, as you're my ward and must obey. You know that, don't you?”
“Y-yes… Mr. Raleigh,” I quavered, trembling and shrinking as his sly fingers stroked and kneaded my unresisting naked body.
“Keep fondling my cock, then… tell me that you're fondling my cock and call me Master, Lucille. Say it,” he ordered sternly.
“I… I… am… f-fondling… y-y-your… c-cock… M-master,” I groaned, tears running down my cheeks. And my thighs wanted to clench together, for, while my hand was doing it to his… thing… he kept prodding against me with it.
My saying it in tears seemed to excite him terribly, for he suddenly gripped my shoulders and hissed, “Now get ready, I am going to poke you, Lucille… Turn over on your back while I get over you, and open your legs as wide as you can and put your arms round my neck and kiss me good and lovingly, if you don't want to be unable to sit down for a week.”
I knew the terrible moment had come when he was going to have me, just as a man and wife… and I wanted to escape… to plead with him, to beg him humbly not to shame me this awful way. I had been a good girl all my life, and after this I wouldn't be. No man would want to marry a girl who had done… this… with a strange man she wasn't married to, I was sure.
With a sob, I rolled over hopelessly, tremblingly, onto my back and forced myself to open my legs up. He got over me at once, and I opened my eyes. I saw his… thing… sticking out violently over me, his face looming flushed and twisted, his eyes glittering greedily, and I burst into tears. I couldn't control them, I was so afraid and ashamed.
He lay down on top of me, and all my body crawled and shuddered as I felt him naked on me, weighing me down. “Put your arms round me. Be quick about it, Lucille,” he ordered angrily, and I obeyed him. Oh God, what else could I do now? Only pray and endure this, and hope it would end soon so that he'd go away.
His hands were on my breasts mashing them down, pressing them together, slapping them lightly over the nipples, and it stung and smarted curiously, though naturally not like the way he'd done to my aching, burning bottom. His weight on me made me all too conscious of the inflamed condition of my behind, and I moaned from it, but he crushed his mouth over mine, thrusting in his tongue, and I felt his… thing… rub along my belly, then suddenly prod against my… spot. “Ohhhh,” I groaned, trying to turn my head away.
“Lie still and do just what I tell you, you understand? Keep those lovely legs open as much as you can, or a whip will open them for you,” he demanded. “Now,” he continued, “tighten your arms round my neck and put your tongue into my mouth as I do mine in yours. Hurry.”
I had to obey… and I felt him tensing and shuddering against me as I did so… felt his fingers dig into my bare breasts hard till I gasped with pain, squirming and trying to ease myself, crushed down on my sore bottom as I was.
“Now,” he panted hoarsely, “now I'm going to poke you, Lucille. I'm going to put my cock into your sweet pussy… Is that what you call it? Tell me, I order you to tell me, and you must answer if you don't want your behind a lot sorer right away.”
“N-n-no… Mr… R… R… Raleigh,” I sobbed.
“Master, you stupid little girl. Call me Master whenever I'm in bed with you like this-”
Whenever he was in bed with me-oh, God- did that mean he would do this to me whenever he wanted? Oh, heaven forgive me for my shame and weakness… If my parents hadn't been such money-grubbing, unfortunate people. “N-no Master,” I groaned, feeling his… thing… press gently again and again, in light little touches that made me tense and shrink, right against… my spot… “I… I… c-call it… my… s-spot… Oh, d-don't do it to me. Oh, I'll be good and work hard and obey you in everything you want, just don't do it to me… M-Master… Oh, if you only knew how awfully ashamed I am to do this with… with a man…”
“Not with a man or any man, you little fool, but with your guardian, who has every right over you. And this is only your gratitude for the lesson I am teaching you, you understand? Spot… a charming, naive word that… I prefer pussy, Lucille. So I am going to put my cock into that sweet virgin little pussy of yours right now and poke you good. And if you want to escape another sound whipping tonight, you'll kiss and hold me with your arms while I'm doing it… The rest, I'll tell you what to do, so you needn't be upset about being ignorant… I'm happy to find you are, as I prefer to teach a young virgin especially one who needs her lovely bottom well whipped regularly to help her learn quickly.”
I couldn't speak, I was so ashamed and unhappy, but I kept my arms about him out of sheer terror that he would whip me again, while he reached down and slipped his right hand between our bodies till he had a finger on… my spot…
Then he began to tickle it, while I gasped and started nervously, my face terribly red and tear-stained, closing my eyes and trying to shut out his flushed, stern face. My thigh muscles kept twitching and wanting to close my legs, but I knew I didn't dare, and his other hand was kneading and pinching one of my breasts all the time. Then his mouth closed over mine and his tongue went in deeply and rooted about till he ordered hoarsely, “Use your tongue, too, Lucille,” and I had to obey. All the time I felt his forefinger rubbing gently and slowly around the lips of my… spot… and it began to tingle and quiver…It was not unpleasant, but I had no sensation now of anything except my fright of him and my unbearable shame at this cruel, merciless act he was going to commit on my naked helpless body.
“What a soft little pussy,” he said thickly, kissing me very hard and almost making me lose my breath, while his hands tightened on my heaving breast. “But it isn't juicy enough for its first poke… Ah, well, I didn't expect you to want me the first time… In fact if you had, I'd have taken the whip to your backside to correct your being a sinful, naughty girl. But later on, you'll learn not only to submit but to want it, you obstinate, impertinent little minx.”
With this, he put his forefinger to his mouth and moistened it with his own saliva, then again put it back against my… spot… and started to rub the lips more quickly. This time the sensation was more vivid. I started to groan, but my inflamed bottom was making every movement of his torture.
I cringed, my flesh actually crawled and prickled with an intolerable repugnancy and distressed shame at this indecent manipulation of my naked flesh. I wanted to cry out to him, to beg him out of decency and mercy… I knew how useless, how dangerous it would be. So, my arms about his neck, eyes closed, my panting mouth yielded to him helplessly. My legs open, I quivered and waited in an atrocious suspense for him to do it-what he meant to do to me, praying it would not be too painful and not take too long. But Mr. Raleigh, as an artist, had a vivid imagination, alas for me, and he began to tell me how lovely my body was and what a pleasure it would give him, till I died of shame and my face was red to my hair roots. He told me he could feel the lips of my “pussy” swelling up and growing “juicy,” which meant I was instinctively being prepared by Nature to accept my poking and that I would even find pleasure the first time as he taught me. He made me call him Master and then tell him I was his to whip or poke whenever he desired, and he kissed my tears, tasting them and telling me I had fascinating appeal for him now because I was crying and in pain from the good strapping he had given my naughty, bare behind. He kept probing with his finger, inside the lips now, deeper and deeper till I suddenly cried out and stiffened; a twinge of pain had shot through me there. He laughed and said, “That's good, that proves you've been a good girl, and it's well for you, you have, too, Lucille. Now, are you all ready for your first poke from my cock? Tell me the way I want you to, using the words I just taught you.”
And, trembling, my face streaked with bitter tears, I had to stammer, “Yes… Master… my… my pussy… is… all ready… for… for your c-cock to… to poke it. Please do it to me now, Master, I want you to…” though all my flesh shrank to belie what I was saying in my shame and fear.
It seemed to me I had endured this torture for hours… I was exhausted, trembling, my bottom burned and throbbed furiously, and every movement of my muscles sent a spasm of fiery pain through my flesh. But now a greater anguish than ever possessed me-it was to be now.
I turned my face away and stifled back my sobs as I felt his fingers pry open the lips of… my spot… and then at once I felt the hard spear of his… thing… enter between them. The sensation was such as I had not expected or dreamed of… a curious feeling… the filmy thing he had put over the head of his thing… kept me from feeling how hot it was, which I knew from having had to hold it before. “Oh, oh, Mr. Raleigh, oh, please, oh, no, no,” I groaned, and my hands started to push at his shoulders.
“Be careful now, Lucille,” he warned sternly, his voice very hoarse and shuddering with his greed to have me. “You just hold me tight with those arms and don't fight me off or you'll suffer for it and you know where. A good whipping now on that lovely reddened backside of yours, my dear girl, would really make you scream.”
“Oh, don't, don't, I will, I'll obey you-M-Master,” I sobbed, and frantically hugged him with my arms.
At the same time, I felt him thrust deeper into me, spreading me apart there till I felt I could not bear it any longer-and then the savage twinge of pain I felt, so much greater than when his finger had pressed into me-made me try to close my legs and I cried out, “Oh, it hurts me there, it hurts me. Oh, please take it out. Oh, you're going to hurt me dreadfully. I know you are.”
“Yes, on that lovely backside, you timid little piece,” he snarled. “Are you going to spread those bare legs of yours wider and kiss me, or am I going to ring for the servants?”
Sobbing hopelessly, I tried to obey him, even though my entire body stiffened to resist the pain, the shame… the terrible wickedness of what he was going to do to me, who had never even kissed a strange man before. I put my trembling mouth to his, and felt his tongue drive hard into it-and at the same time, he threw himself against me violently.
I shrieked aloud, but his mouth covering mine as it did muffled the sound. It felt as if my body was being torn by the twisting of a dull knife inside my most intimate flesh. My bare legs tried desperately to close, but he had his left leg in between mine, and had thrown his right leg over my left, preventing any defense. My head flung back on the pillow, and I tried to shove him away with my hands, but he was furiously determined now, and thrust once more… I felt something give way with an… excruciating pain, and then I felt his… thing… plough deeper into my body till his belly was grinding against mine and his hands mashing down my heaving bare breasts. His mouth kept fused over mine to stop my cries from being heard, and then-
He began… to… to poke me… as he called it… drawing back his body, then thrusting himself back to me, and his spear thrust back into the hole it had made for itself with that tearing. I felt… moist… there… and I guessed that it was blood. But it hurt abominably; the laceration was a good deal, and his rubbing back and forth against it as he thrust back and forth into me made me writhe and twist and cry in my suffering. He only spoke to me to tell me fiercely to keep kissing him and holding on to him, and to put my free leg over his and try to arch myself up when I felt him thrusting into me… I was delirious, confused, in pain, and I hardly knew what I was doing… It was an eternity… this constant in and out movement in my lacerated, throbbing… spot. And then suddenly he cried out and crushed my mouth down with his and I felt a strange, vigorous throbbing… and then he lay panting, crushing me down. My spot… seemed to be thrust apart and choked up enormously… And then slowly I felt him rise off me and draw himself out of me… and get out of bed. I buried my face in my hands and wept disconsolately.
“There, now, Lucille, my dear, you didn't die after all. And as for the pain, I assure you there won't be any more… at least not in front,” he chuckled, and I trembled at the gloating, the cruelty in his voice, the thickened drawl of satisfaction to see me naked and conquered, and ashamed there before him. I couldn't bear to look at this man who had bought me, examined me naked before my own parents, then tied me up and whipped me cruelly, and finally made me do… what only a decent married woman is supposed to do with her own husband.
“Stop your crying, you silly fool, or I'll give you something really to cry about,” he ordered, and I managed somehow to control my sobs. “Now get up and go to the bathroom and take a shower. Then come back and I'll put your nightdress on you. Don't get scared at the blood. It's what every virgin has the first time her sweet pussy is poked. Here, I'll help you, my dear.”
Trembling, half fainting I managed to get out of bed, stark naked. I glanced down at my body… Blood smeared my upper thighs and the hair of… my spot. I tottered, but as he held me and led me to the bathroom, ordering me sternly to fend for myself, because I wasn't as badly off as I thought. And the shower did revive me, but my teeth were chattering with fright. I dried myself, and there was no more blood, but I felt wrenched and torn and sore, and that, with my bottom still hurting me, made me almost faint with feverishness. When I came out, he had my nightdress waiting, drew it over me, not without holding me to him and stroking my breasts and bottom and making me kiss him. Then he lifted me and put me back in bed, drew the sheets over me, and bade me goodnight… It was a night of terror for me, the slightest sound awakened my fitful nightmarish-ridden sleep with a start, for I feared it was he coming back to me again. But he did not return. At least, not again that night…
He entered my room the next morning. He could tell from my manner that I was in dread fear of him, and he seemed to enjoy that. He adopted toward me now a dominating attitude, that was both patronizing and condescending. Although he spoke to me in words of endearment, they were such one might use toward a child one has scolded.
When he remained in the room, he ordered me to get up and remove my nightdress. Remembering the events of the night before, I hesitated to appear nude before him. But, knowing what would happen if I gave him the least excuse to whip me, I slipped out of bed and pulled my nightdress off.