Stacy really had done quite well for a new maid.
It wasn't until the fourth day that she earned her first whipping, and both Norena and Mistress were impressed with her efficiency. The iron had really been too hot, and Stacy had tinged the hem of one of Mistress' skirts.
"Well, you are honest about it, Stacy," said
Mistress when she pointed it out to her. "I really wouldn't have noticed. Naturally, if I had, and you
'; You've been taught well."
"Thank you, Mistress. Do you have time to whip me now, or is it inconvenient?"
"Now would be excellent, Stacy. There's just enough time before my husband gets home for our cocktail hour. Go downstairs and select your whip.
Ask Trish and Dania to come up to watch, please. I think the hall table would be nice today."
"Thank you, Mistress."
It was a predicament, in the pantry, to select a whip. At her previous positions she was not re- quired to choose her own instrument of punish- ment. In a way, Stacy thought it rather interest- ing. She removed one after the other from their hooks, holding them and snapping them. It was impossible! A girl could waste an hour deciding.
Finally, in girlish desperation, Stacy closed her eyes, whirled around twice and put out her hand. It was the one with two leather thongs. Good as any, she thought.
"Trish, Dania… sorry to bother you. Whipping time for your new helper."
"Well, it's about time," laughed Dania. "We thought you were never going to make a mistake!
Is it Norena or Mistress?"
"Mistress," said Stacy.
"Oh, lucky you," chirped Trish. "It's a lot more sexy with her. Hurts more, though. You can't wear your panties when Mistress whips you, you know."
The three traipsed upstairs to the hall. Mistress awaited them, her blouse removed to facilitate her arm movements. Her breasts were very lovely.
Trish whispered to Stacy, "See, I told you it was sexier with her! 'She never wears much when she whips us. Look, her nipples are already hard. She must like you, Stacy."
"I've noticed."
Stacy lifted up her skirt and peeled down her panties, stepped out of them, and placed them, folded properly, on the table beside the whip. Miss
Cummins had taught the domestic class never to pull one's pants down around the knees. It was a silly sight. Take them off, and fold them neatly on the table or floor.
Stacy spread herself over the table, her skirt hiked to her waist. She found the proper balance on her stomach, then satisfied, spread her legs nicely, apart. Stacy always felt a tingle when she spread ' her legs for a whipping. A girl just seemingly never gets quite used to exposing her sex voluntarily.
And of course, before a new mistress who was getting to see it for the first time, a pretty mistress at that, well…
Besides, Trish and Dania would see her first whipping too. Another tingle, because they were lovers. Stacy was breathing rather hard, in fact.
She was glad her two lovemates were there. It was the sign of a real girl, of course,, for one who wished that her whipping would be done in private simply hadn't grown up yet. It hurt just as much either way. The whipping had to be received, so why not at least know that your two friends would enjoy it.
If one loved her sister maids like she should, then she hoped her punishment would turn them on.
The whipping would then be well worth it. It was, in fact, honest love between girls. Stacy had gotten her pants wet watching Trish whipped, so fair is fair. Wet your pants, Trish, thought Stacy.
The first lash is always such a surprise. The terrific sound always seems like it is somewhere else. Then a girl feels that awful burning on her bottom, and she knows that the sound was her own flesh.
By the fourth lash, Stacy knew that the whip- ping.was… different. Her previous employers, and even Norena, whipped her basically because it had to be done. A task, so to speak. The lashes fell in repetition, in a steady rhythm, falling where they might. It was a matter of whipping the girl and getting it over with. It was, in essence, a pun- ishment deserved. But Mistress was quite differ- ent. Each lash was an event in itself. Separate.
Distinct. Individual. There was 6o pattern to it, and they did not come close together. When a girl is whipped in a regular cadence, she can gauge the hurt and the strike. But when the pattern is very irregular, she knows not when the next will fall.
Thus each lash becomes a separate punishment, bringing the ultimate hurt.
Mistress was an artist, realized Stacy. Unhur- ried, patient. Maybe ten seconds between two lashes, then a full minute until the next, while the recipient squirmed mentally, almost begging for the next lash to end the suspense. Stacy could feel that Mistress also picked her target as well. Maybe one cheek only, then the other. Then both together.
A girl just simply couldn't prepare for the next lash, and it left her breathless. Stacy had never been whipped by anyone like this. Ten strokes from Mistress were like twenty from anyone else.
Besides, she had yowled on the third lash, which was early for Stacy. She had no doubt Mistress could make a girl yowl on the first if she desired.
The woman was magnificent with a whip, simply magnificent. The hurt was intense. Stacy thought she'd probably cry before too long.
Then of course there was the other thing. Every so often, Mistress would lay the whip down beside
Stacy and use her tender hands on her flesh in the most intimate manner. Her' fingers were 'so gentle and nice. They didn't squeeze or fondle… they caressed. First they traced the whip marks on the cheeks, then up the slender back and under to a breast. Then, perhaps, they trailed on the sensitive flesh of the inner thighs before stroking gently the silken sex hair. Then, with a maddeningly soft touch of a finger or two, Mistress would trace the two separate sex lips, and gently stroke the clit- oris. Stacy's body almost arched in tension, so tight were her emotions. The feeling was sensa- tional, yet so taunting! If only she would plunge and probe with those fingers! But no, only the tender, delicate caress.
The occasional adventures of Mistress' fingers did something that the whip could not do. They made Stacy's knees buckle in helplessness. It was all she could do to keep her position and to keep her hands on the table edge. It was perhaps five lashes, or seven, then that intimate caressing which pro- duced a scream every bit as loud as when the whip fell. Stacy had never experienced such ultimate variance between pain and pleasure. It was un- believable in its contrast. At length, one became the other. Pain and pleasure were one. The fingers or the whip. Each now was intensely sexual. Stacy was dripping between her legs shamelessly. She had no idea how many lashes fell. She really didn't care.
In a daze, she felt Mistress' face caressing her own, the soft, rich lips nibbling at her mouth, and her own lips returning the kiss. Mistress whispered into her ear, "Have you cried yet, Stacy?"
"No, Mistress, not quite."
"I will make you' cry now, little girl, with the whip. A girl isn't whipped proper.ly until she cries.
Then, when you cry, I'll come back and we'll kiss , again!"
"Yes, Mistress."
The hall echoed with the terrible lash sounds and
Stacy's bottom lurched and bounced. She began to sob. Mistress returned her face to Stacy's.
"Are you close to orgasm, Stacy?"
"Yes… you… know I am."
Mistress withdrew. The whip howled up into
Stacy's sex. Just once. The shock and the hurt and the surprise was so intense that Stacy's mind could not react quickly to it. It was not possible that anything could hurt like that! Then the agony at her sex subsided somewhat, and the full implication of where she had Taken the lash overwhelmed her senses. Stacy climaxed quite wildly and beat her fists upon the table for a very long time in utter astonishment at the force of her orgasm.
Mistress departed from the hall. Stacy had no desire to move or stand up. Her eyes were closed.
Trish and Dania stroked her wet back.
"Wait until you see your ass in the mirror," laughed Dania. "Looks like a zebra! See, I told you a whipping from Mistress was special. How do you feel, hon?"
Stacy managed a weak smile for her friend.
"Just go away and let me lie here and die. It isn't the whipping, it's the other stuff."
"We know!" laughed Trish. "Hey, you're start- ing to squirm again. You gonna come again?"
"I think so."
Master and Mistress had,.class, thought Stacy.
After all, Mr. Hilljngs had,jumped all over her-the; very first night., It was quite obscene to fuck a maid the very first night. A girl should, at least be. given the chance,to get adjusted to the new home to her new employers before bedding her. It was only proper.
It was the fifth night before Stacy was tele- phoned to the bedroom. More than enough time to get adjusted, and Stacy admired them for it. Class in people always shows through. It was not un- expected either, for Stacy knew that afternoon.
She had been dusting the library shelves as
Mistress read across the room. She had heard
Mistress' book plop down, and the soft footsteps behind her. A maid obviously doesn't turn around when Master or Mistress puts their hands about her waist. It's their privilege. Mistress' hands went to Stacy's skirt hem, then lifted the skirt up to her waist before holding her again. Stacy was all legs and white panties: It was hard to continue dusting, of course. There simply is no other way for a gir1 to react but to lay her head back on Mistress' shoulder and purr like a kitten being stroked.
"Would you like to dust around in just your pants, Stacy? It would please me."
"Of course, Mistress." And so she did. Mistress had a terrible time trying to read eventually. !"Share some wine with me, Stacy. Sit over there so
I can look at you."
It was, naturally, a unique compliment. A domestic wasn't often asked to sit down and share wine with the mistress or master. Stacy plopped herrself in the hardback chair across from the ele- gant woman. Mistress didn't wish to talk… just to look at her. Well, that's what maids are for,
Miss Cummins had said in school. You certainly didn't initiate the conversation. It took some prac- tice to sit like that, silently, and let yourself be admired. You weren't supposed to blush, or fidget, or drum your fingers, or look around. You just acted like you were alone, fingering the rim of your wine glass, and looking very comfortable and self- assured. If you wore your skirt, you opened your legs just enough so your panties showed. If you wore just pants, or were naked, then it was proper to keep the legs apart further. It was in chapter three of Nelson's Domestic Studies. Above all, make sure your underpants are the sheer kind. Let them see your fur. Talk with your eyes, not your mouth.
Stacy slipped one thigh over the chair edge, spreading herself wide apart. She sipped her glass, and began with the eye treatment over the top of
the glass. It was always effective, said Miss
Cummins. Mistress joined in with the eye game. It was sexy. Stacy moved her other thigh over the chair edge. Her pants now didn't do much to covet, her, as she well knew. Her brown tufts would be sticking out both sides of the narrow strip, her. pink lips pressed visibly and clearly against the moist, white sheerness of her panty. It was effec- tive. Mistress subconsciously ran a tongue over one lip.
"You'll have to excuse me now, Stacy. I hear my, husband's car in the driveway. Put on your things
Tell Trish to serve the cocktails this evening, an
Dania the food. By the way, advise Dania to serve without her blouse tonight. I like to watch her when she walks. You shall serve the wine course after dessert, Stacy. I think I shall have you sit on my lap and feed me the wine. I just adore your eyes."
"Yes, of course, Mistress."
"Oh, by the way, Stacy, tonight you shall spend with us in bed."
"Thank you, Mistress; It's very kind of you."
Thus, when the telephone rang in the domestics bedroom, Stacy was ready. Trish and Dania had mothered her like a hen, brushing her hair, putting on her lipstick and perfume, and generally fussing over her. Stacy wore only heels.
"Stand up, darling," said Trish. "Let us see you
Oh, you look just scrumptious! Could eat you up
Here, let's put some rouge on your pretty nipples.
"On her pussy, too," chimed in Dania. At Iast
Stacy was perfect.
The phone rang. "Well, here I go," beamed
Stacy.
"Bye, honey," said Trish. "We'll miss you tonight. Fuck Master nice. He's sweet." Trish kissed
Stacy carefully on the cheek to avoid messing her lipstick, and Dania followed.
It was a lovely night with Master and Mistress
Master was very efficient, but not overbearing
'Like everything else he did, it was done with style and expertise, and it was only twice. Just right is every way, not too quick, not too long. Just a very efficient taking of a domestic. As for Mistress, she was magnificent. It helped when a mistress was very attractive and responsive, and Mistress was both. A girl just performs better when her mistress excites her. Stacy did one of her best jobs on her
In fact, it may well have been her very best, for she was surprisingly rewarded with a return of affec tions from Mistress. A maid must be very special to receive from a mistress. After all, domestics usually are only expected to give to the lady of the house, not receive. Thus the unexpected tongue of
Mistress was quite a compliment indeed to Stacy abilities. Trish and Dania had only received one each from Mistress in their service of several months, so Stacy felt extremely proud that she had received her very first time.
"You're very, very good with women, Stacy
Mistress had said. Stacy's flush was not manufa tured this time. Such a compliment was fairly rare in domestic service and earned Mistress yet a other lovely attack from Stacy.
Stacy slept happily, snuggled between Master and Mistress for the night. How wonderful it was to be shared so lovingly between husband and wife
Domestics were so lucky. If only all employers were so attractive as these! Master went to sleep quickly, as men usually do, but Mistress and Stacy lay awake for a while enjoying their closeness an warmth. Men just didn't enjoy the subtleties of cuddling and stroking like females did. Each had a hand between each other's legs, not probing or rub- bing or initiating arousement. Just stroking the silky hair like petting a kitten. It was not sex, it was more a fondness. At such times, women of even mid-thirties like Mistress became girls once again. Girls had such playful little games with one another that often are unfortunately lost when maturity is reached.
For a woman like Mistress, it often took a young girl to revive such delightful activities. Thus when
Stacy felt Mistress' fingers suddenly pluck a strand of pubic hair from her skin she knew that a game was on. She returned the favor, and held a long black strand up to Mistress' eyes to show her what had just been plucked from her. It was give- and-take fun, it appeared. Mistress pulled another from Stacy's sex, this time producing a little gasp of hurt. Stacy retaliated and happily succeeded in wringing a sincere moan from Mistress.
The game was played calmly and rationally, as it should be. Give a tuft, take a tuft. There was no particular time limit to the game. Females plucked until they tired of' the fun. The object, naturally, was to bring a good, honest squeal of hurt from your opponent. There was no particular concern about losing all of one's fun. There was certainly enough there for a very long game of it. But both
Mistress and Stacy knew that they'd play until they tired of it, even if they lost all of it. But of course they didn't lose all of it. A good deal of it, but not all of it. Master 'mumbled in irritation at the squeals and squeaks and yowls beside him. It definitely was disturbing his sleep, so in good taste, Stacy and Mistress finally went off to sleep themselves. It had been really a fun night. Stacy was pleased.
Thursdays were the housekeeper's days off, and
Master's golf day at the club. It was therefore an excellent day for Mistress to play with the domes- tics in the basement room. It had been tried on other days of the week, but had incurred the wrath of Norena who was most jealous of her maids' time. She just saw no sense at all in Mistress tor- turing the girls when there was a tight housekeep- ing schedule to follow. It wasn't just the couple of hours away from their work, but they simply didn't function at full capacity after a session from
Mistress. Norena let it be known, in less than cour- teous tones, that she wished Mistress would have her fun on Thursdays. In deference to Norena's long service and excellent ability, Mistress usually bowed to her requests., Domestics, were plentiful, but housekeepers of Norena's worth were hard to come by. There was no. use irritating her. Thus,
Thursdays seemed to w,ork out, quite well for all concerned.., '.
"C'mon, Stacy, said Trish in the parlor. "Miss- tress wants us in the basement in five minutes.
First time for you. It isn't too bad. Anyway, we're all there together, so it's kinda nice."
"Where's Dania, hon?"
"Oh, she went down an hour ago. The breast weights again. I swear, Stacy, Mistress is going to have that girl tripping over her tits before long."
"No, she won't," Stacey laughed. "Only another inch to go, Dania said. Well, let's go. What's the mode of dress for the Hurting Hour?"
"Nothing but lipstick and pussy fur, naturally," laughed Trish.
The room was comfortable. It was warm, and carpeted, and had a stereo outlet which played soft music. Mistress sat comfortably on a couch, smok- ing and enjoying the pleasant sight of Dania, who seemingly slept in her bondage. At least her eyes were gently closed in repose. It was obvious to
Stacy that Dania had developed the necessary patience for such discomforts.
Dania's wrists were chained behind her. Another chain was attached to the wrist links and ran tautly to the ceiling where it circled a heavy pulley.
It had been pulled to the limits of Dania's slender arms, forcing her to bend forward until her upper body was parallel to the floor, and putting her young breasts in perfect position for the weights.
The weights, tied to her breasts by slim cords, were round and apparently quite heavy by the appear- ance of Dania's elongated flesh. Obviously lead weights, thought Stacy. They most certainly did a job on Dania!
"Hi," said Dania. "Don't look so surprised,
Stacy. After all, at least they're not bowling balls
… even though they feel like it. Make a good model for bra ads, wouldn.'t I?"
"You look like Lanya of the Jungle in another predicament!" laughed Stacy.
"Well, Trish," said Mistress, "why not get start ed on your nipple exercises. Meant to start you last week."
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you," replied Trish cor- rectly.
Mistress bound Trish's arms behind her, then used a flicking tongue to elongate the girl's nipples to maximum length. Trish gasped nicely at the touch of the warm tongue. Long enough now to tie,
Mistress used thin but strong cord, then looped the long remainders over a ceiling pulley and pulled
Trish up to her tiptoes. Trish bent backwards as she was pulled taut, her chin straight up into the air. Her pinkish-brown nipples had become long fingers of protesting flesh.
"Hurt, Trish? asked Mistress.
"I'm afraid so, Mistress. Nips feel like they're gonna come off. Get used to it in a while, I think, but I'm sure I'll do a little yowling in the mean- time."
"Good," said Mistress, quite pleased. "Now,
Stacy, what do I have in mind for you? Certainly we should improve on something, like Trish and
Dania. Let's start with the X-frame. Right up against it, arms and legs spread wide… that's it.
You do observe, don't you, Stacy? Now, let's tie those pretty ankles and wrists to the wood… like so. There! Lovely, Stacy, just lovely. Appears like you are missing some pussy hair in places… like me. Wonder how we lost it?"
Trish and Dania could only mender what Mis- tress was talking about. They would ask Stacy later.
The clothespins bit deeply into:Stacy's sex lips and caused the girl to draw in her breath. The weights which were then attached to the clothes- pins by cord were obviously not as large as Dania's breast weights, but quite heavy enough to make
Stacy hiss.
"I figured it would be that," smiled Dania. "My tits, Trish's nipples, what else is there left? Wel- come to Woodriding's body-shaping school!"
Despite her burning hurt, Stacy could not help but laugh at Dania's good humor. Acceptance of discomforting situations was what made girls so . terribly wonderful. The three of them were hurting.
It was either fuss and complain, or make the best of it between themselves. The latter was so much nicer.
"What's she look like?" asked Trish. "Afraid I can only see the ceiling for a while."
"Pussy weights, Trish," said Dania. "Pretty good ones too, her lips are stretched pretty damn far. Stacy'll have some pussy after a couple months of this!"
"Good," said Trish, softly. But her tone indi- cated that she was hurting.
The flippancy of the conversation might well belie the fact that the bondage did indeed hurt. It might also tend to give the impression that in some manner, domestics somehow tended to be less immune to discomfort and pain than other girls in various and sundry vocations. It was, of course, not true. It hurt no more or no less than it would any other female. The difference was in the train- ing and resolve of domestics. Punishment was accepted as part of their duties, and repetition of discomfort certainly helped.
Thus a good maid simply did not yowl or corn- plain as quickly as others might. She was expected to at least absorb a moderate acceptance, both of pain and length of time, before she let her discom- fort known in the form of various and sundry sounds and whines. Too, it was always different when two or more domestics suffered together.
Alone in bondage, a maid might well begin her caterwalling soon, but it was rather humiliating to do so when her companions in bondage hadn't uttered a squeak as yet. It was, naturally, a matter of pride not to be the first if at all possible.
After a reasonable length of time, however, one had to be the first. In this case it was Trish. The majority of her weight on her nipples was obvious- ly the most hurtful of the three tribulations in the room. Dania had suffered the breast weights many, many times before, and Stacy's predicament was not unbearable, but Trish's nipples were being stretched quite terribly. At that, it was twenty minutes before the first soft moan escaped her. Her utterance immediately made the situation more enjoyable for Mistress, who had sat smoking and waiting for the pleasures of.vocal response. Girls in punishment became much more arousing when they made some noise. In time, all three girls began a symphony of delightful moans and cries, much to Mistress' enjoyment.
The onIy problem with the three bondage posi- tions of the girls was that their tongues were just not available to do something about her wetness, a fact that she had been aware of when she put them there. In the future, she would have to make at least one girl available.
Mistress was not insensitive to her punishment activities. She knew well that young Trish suffered more than the others for the lengthening of a girl's nipples was not an easy task if it was to be accom- plished. Breast stretching wasn't quite as discom- forting, for they were larger things to punish, but a nipple is such a terribly slender little thing. Mis- tress had always been amazed as to the punish- ment a nipple could take, especially the stretching.
But Trish's age was the time to do it. At seventeen they were still pliable and soft, and could be lengthened to almost any position with the proper hard work. Trish would, of course, suffer consider- able hurt, but in the long run the girl would be quite proud of her sexy new acquisition. In a blouse or tank top, Trish would be sensational.
Trish was squirming quite considerably, and making more than adequate racket, but Mistress realized that it was her first session. Yet, the girl really did deserve a diversion from her hurt, if only briefly. Mistress stroked her clitoris with one fin- ger, knowing that it wouldn't take much. Of course she was correct, knowing girls as she did. A girl in extreme bondage was mentally and emotionally as tight as a bowstring. Under such conditions there was only a fine line between pain and pleasure.
Indeed, in time, the two became one, such as in a whipping with concurrent fondling. It took only ten seconds for Trish to scream out in orgasm and wet her thighs.
"Thank you, Mistress," gasped Trish. It wasn't a courtesy reply. Trish meant it, for if at least for only a brief moment or two, her pleasure had made her agony disappear. For a girl in bondage or pun- ishment, such relief is beautiful, even if given by the very person who dominates her. Gratefulness transcends animosity. But in Trish's case, there would be no animosity at all. Mistress was only doing things which were expected of an employer.
Domestics simply were things to hurt for fun and enjoyment. That was all there was to it. If a girl didn't like that philosophy, she didn't go into domestic service.
"Stacy," said the housekeeper, "would you mind taking care of Dania? Master has his pinochle game tonight and I have to go into town for some liquor and things. Be gone for an hour or so and I just haven't time to whip her right now. She's on the table in the library so she's obviously done something wrong. I simply can't afford to have her lying there until I return. You do know how to whip a girl, don't you?"
"Quite honestly, Norena, I haven't whipped one before, but I don't imagine it's that difficult. I've watched enough. How many lashes does she get?"
"Stacy, you know we don't issue a specific num- ber here at Woodriding. It's entirely up to the one with the whip. I'll rely on your good judgment. I'll check her bottom when I return to see if you did a proper job of it."
"Yes, Norena. I'll take care of the matter. By the way, I need some lipstick. Can you pick some up for me, please?"
Stacy was rather excited about her task. A domestic receives the whip far. more times than she gives it, yet most girls would admit to wishing it were more equalized. Being whipped was part of domestic life. It was accepted, and it most cer- tainly hurt. But whipping another must be terribly enjoyable.
' Stacy finished up the dishes before going into the library where Dania was sprawled on the oaken table.
"Dania, what an odd position!" she laughed from the doorway. "Do you know your panties are showing… all of them?"
"Oh, hi, Stacy. Where's Norena? I'd like to get ! this whipping over. I've only just started dusting in here."
"What did you do, honey?"
"Dusting the books and one fell. Bent the bind- ing."
"Well, guess what? Norena has gone into town and told me to whip you."
"Lucky girl, Stacy, doesn't happen too often at
Woodriding. Well, let's get on with it before I get another for not finishing in here."
"Well, la de da, a left-hander," smiled Dania.
The first stroke was very inefficient.
"Sorry, Dania. First time for me. I'll get the hang of it in a minute or two."
"Raise your arm higher and put more snap into it, darling."
The second was much better, and produced the satisfying retort inherent in a well-delivered effort.
"Much better, Stacy."
Dania said nothing at the third lash, but Stacy saw her hands move to the table edge and grip the wood, which indicated that Dania was indeed start- ing to feel it. It was more exciting than she had anticipated, and Stacy was getting better with each stroke. She decided that she would simply whip Dania. She certainly wasn't experienced enough to administer the delightfully erotic byplay and fondling that Mistress did. That took experi- ence and skill to play a girl'like a musical instru- ment. Domestics simply weren't in Mist,ress' league.
Stacy was pleased with the pattern of streaks she had caused, so perfectly evident under Bania's – sheer panties. Really, more than pleased. To be quite honest, glowingly aroused. A good domestic should develop her sadistic personality as well as her masochistic, for every girl has both. Miss
Cumrnins had touched on that in class. Thus Stacy was very pleased to finally get the opportunity to try out that side of her. She had always wondered if that part of her would work. By the tenth stroke, there was no longer doubt in her mind. It worked.
The sexual arousal was very nice. As a matter of fact, Stacy began to realize that perhaps if this went on long enough she would orgasm. Well, why not? The whipping was up to her and she could go on as long as she desired.
On the other hand, that really would be quite selfish. She was there to punish her friend for being bad, not to use her for self-gratification. That wasn't in the realm of domestics. Those erotic plea sures were for the employers. Thus, somewhere around thirty, Stacy stopped. She really didn't want to, for the last dozen or so had brought some very throaty screams from Dania, and the under- pants were ripped in one spot on the left side. But it was best to stop.
"You don't have to stop… if you wish, Stacy. I can tell by your face that you're gonna have a come before much longer. Might as well get it off."
It was, naturally, what made good young domes- tics so precious and beautiful. Always thought of someone else before themselves. It was a very spe- cial quality in young -girls. In this case, it meant that Dania loved Staey enough to sacrifice herself for her pleasure.
"Thanks, Dania. That's sweet of you. I love you too. But, no, that's enough. Was I any good?"
"Really almost as good as Norena. Ver'y good for your first time, angel. You hurt, I mean really. My eyes aren't dripping from over-reading. Another few and you would have made me cry a waterfall."
Dania stood up and restored her skirt.
"Kiss and make up?" said Stacy.
"Always, darling." The embrace was lovely and warm. Lipstick changed places.
"Hope you get to whip my ass, sometime soon," said Stacy. "It's super to punish a girl!"
"Thanks, Stacy. Hope so too, but it happens so rarely around here."
"Well, if you don't get the chance before too long, we'll arrange it. You know, I'll break some- thing just before Norena is leaving or something."
"O.K. Sounds great. I've done it a couple of times before. Betcha I can make you cry by… twenty."
"Bet you can't."
There really wasn't much serving during the i pinochle game that evening. Just enough that
Master's friends had some fulfilling glances at the girls. They bent nicely when serving, making sure the nipples popped out properly. Other than that, it was just cleaning up, and waiting for Trish. It was Trish's "turn" this month. It was expected of a host to provide a domestic for satisfaction after the card game was completed, so Trish sat nicely by, awaiting the conclusion. Master eventually nodded to her and she assumed the customary position over the card table, not unlike the whip- ping position. With quick hands, it was skirt up, panties down, and she was ready with the expected offering. The position was taught in domestic class in school, and afforded two openings to the user without the hassle of changing position, thus was most practical. The man could use either orifice at his disposal very easily.
Most users took advantage 'of both entrances, changing back and forth as desired, and the pinochle players were no exception. As usual, they all finished in Trish's smaller tunnel. Men just seemed to prefer emitting there these days, Trish had noticed. Master refrained as usual, a touch of class befitting a good host.
The three girls squeezed into the shower to- gether. It was overcrowded, of course, but because it was, it was much more fun.
"Sure wish one of 'em would come in my pussy once in awhile," said Trish, "All three in the ass again. You'd 'think they didn't know we domestics were on the pill. Golly!"
"Oh, stop complaining," said Stacy. "We were doing up the glasses while you were having fun anyway." All laughed, and turned to girl games with fingers and soap.
"Oooh," said Dania, "I don't think there's any- thing more cool than a girl all soapy and slippery. I really love to give a girl a good soaping."
"You know it" said Stacy, lathering Trish's pubic fur. "Hey, come on, it's only five minutes until Lanya"
"Should be a super chapter tonight," said Dania.
"Let's watch it bound. It'll turn us on even more."
"Dania, you have the greatest ideas," smiled
Trisk "Get three ropes from the drawer."
Dania tied Stacy's hands behind her, then Trish tied hers. It was a little more difficu1t to tie Trish's hands. naturally, but she put her wrists next to
Stacy's fingers and Stacy,did a most commendable job under the circumstances. They plopped onto the bed in their usual side-by-side position,
A brief flashback reviewed Lanya of the Jungle from the last week, and brought the story up to present. Ula approached with the branding iron. It was done on the inside of Marlene Parkins' left thigh, a blazing "L" for Longo. The scream would wake neighbors all across the nation. Many view- ers, rather embarrassed, would turn down their audio slightly.
"Wow!" said Dania. "Look at her fight her ropes! Must hurt like hell. Good girl, Lanya!"
".No wonder Marlene won the Emmy last year.
Some chick!" said Trish.
Aside from the branding, the week's chapter pro- duced very little more punishment for Lanya,\ for the story line had to move along. Eventually, bound and alone in a hut, Lanya was visited by one of Longo's randy underlings who was on the verge of defecting. He had something to offer the jungle beauty, and Lanya went for the offer. He untied her, and she completed the bargain.
"That girl can suck," remarked Stacy.
"Do it, Lanya!" exhorted Trish. "Do it!"
"Give her a mouthful of cream, donkey-face," said Dania. "There… oooh, one hell of a mouthful.
Nice going, Lanya! Now take off, girl!"
At the end of the chapter, Lanya was reunited with her child, and breast-fed him delightfully. A milky minute and a half. Lanya's face was set in ' resolve. She'd pay back that Ula if it was the last thing she did! Lanya knew some interesting things to do to women. You're going to get yours, Ula!,.
But… the bushes are moving… oh, no… not an ' angry lion! He charges! See you.next week.
It was extra exciting to make love with hands tied behind the back and the three squirmed and wiggled into all kinds of positions, Dania and Trish had tried it several times before, but it was new to
Stacy and she found it very much a turn-on. Girls just responded better when they were tied, it seemed. It was some time before they lay in the darkness, snuggling together to sleep.
"Hey, Stacy," said Dania. "This Saturday is reform day. It'I! be your first. Hope Mistress gets a bunch of 'em this time. It's really fun."
"I'd almost forgotten. Wow, I'm looking for- ward to it!"
"It's really different than punishing maids, you know," said Trish.
"Really?"
"Sure" said Dania. "I mean, it isn't fun and games, you know, for the ones that choose reform.
They really.get hurt down there. Besides that, they haven't had punishment before, most of 'em. I mean, we're kind of used to it as domestics, but these chicks are usually first-timers. That's what makes it fun to watch. Some of them just can't believe the hurt they feel! Should hear them scream. Well, anyway, you can't feel sorry for them. If they're going to break the law, they have to pay for it, and a reform day is sure better than a couple of years in the slammer. I think it's an ex- cellent alternative for a female."
"Can hardly wait," said Stacy. "Mmm. I'm get- ting wet just thinking about it."
"Again?" laughed.Trish. "You're always wet, girl. Oh well, you or me, Dania?"
"I'll eat her," said Dania. "Get some sleep,
Trish."
The girls spent the early afternoon on Saturday cleaning and dusting the "reform room." They also put some flower bouquets in the three. vases. It was Stacy's first look at the basement room and she was very impressed.
"I thought it would be more… dungeon-like," she remarked.
"Mistress has class, hon," said Trish while she dusted. "Dark, damp old rooms were fine for the
Middle Ages, but these days a torture chamber should be comfortable. Comfortable armchairs to watch from, spiffy little bar, astro turf on the floor, flower arrangements. Who wants to hurt girls in a castle dungeon anymore?"
"I see your point, Trish; Makes sense. But gee, some of this equipment in here looks particularly antique. Bid Mistress have it sent over from
Dracula's palace in Transylvania?"
"No, silly," laughed Dania. "Mistress says that most of the old punishment devices can't really be improved upon. Everything else gets better over the centuries, but torture stuff was perfected very early, it seems. Guess that's a point for females.
Anyway, she bought all this stuff in Boston. Place there that makes replicas of all the old things.
Look over there. Real old-time brick brazier and branding iron. People tried those new electric branding irons a few years back, but found that the old ones are really the best, after all."
Norena came in shortly for an inspection, and found to her pleasure that the girls had done a good job. She was very pleased with these three particular domestics. Too bad employers changed them so often. But, of course, that was the name of the game. Employers simply liked new cunts now and again.
The car from the circuit court's office came shortly after three,,and the two occupants, were accompanied up the walk by a deputy. Mistress watched their progress from a chair on the front porch. It was always a nice view to perceive females without arms, she thought. Handcuffs behind made females all legs and breasts as they approached one's position.
"Hi, Barney," said Mistress.
"Hello, Mrs. Wood," said the deputy. "Sorry… just have two of 'em today for you."
"Oh, damn, Barney. I was really looking forward to four or five. Aren't ladies breaking the law anymore?"
"Well, it's not that, Mrs. Wood. Peggy over at the disbursement section said that you were very particular about your reformers. Wanted them… well… nice lookers. There were a bunch of sen- tenced gals yesterday, but it was rather a plain group, to say the least, this time. Peggy felt you would rather just have the two nicest ones rather than some dogs. Took them up to Mrs. Hillary's place in Barre. She wasn't very pleased at all.
Peggy seems to favor you, Mrs. Wood."
"Yes, Barney, Peggy and I are… close. She's a dear." Mistress laughed. "I'll have to drop Mari- enne Hillary a note of condolences, in a nice way, of course. But then again, Barney, she has a simply awful reform room. Just the most inexpensive equipment and not at all comfortable. Have you seen it?"
"I don't get to see… the reform rooms, Mrs.
Wood," blushed Barney. "I just deliver the wom- en. Been doin' it for sixteen years now. Then come and get 'em when they-"re done with."
"Yes, of course. Well, let's see what -you've ,brought me, Barney" said Mistress;finally get- ting up off the chair."my, these rubber gags they put on convicted women these days certainly make them drool a lot. Good for them, though, and I like to see a female gagged. Well, they look nice,
Barney, tell me about, them. Don't want to know what they did, just the personal facts, please."
"Yes, Mrs. Wood. Laura Dunson, age 27, mar- ried, two children. Sylvia Lanetti, age 19, un- unmarried."
"Oh, excellent. A woman and a girl, married and unmarried. Nice contrast, especially in age. Do they know each other?"
"No. They met only in court yesterday. Well, got to be getting along, Mrs. Wood. I'll come by tomorrow at ten for them as usual."
Barney drove off and Mistress herded the two into the house. She removed their gags. She always liked to chat with her reforms a little first.
"Well, Laura," she said to the oldest of the two,
"you decided on reform punishment rather than jail. Quite a sensible choice."
"Yes ma'm. I have children, and I just can't be away for a year. Oh, I so wish I hadn't done what I did. I'm awfully worried about the punishments.
I've never really been hurt before."
"Well, don't worry, Laura. Thousands of women have lived through it. Tomorrow you'll be home with your family. You are very attractive, by the way. Sy'Ivia, what about you?"
"I only had three months, ma'm, so it was a hard choice to take punishment instead. But I'm plan- ning on being married next month, and it would have meant changing all the plans and everything.
Guess I can get through it somehow. I'm young."
Mistress led the two down the hall, passing the housekeeper.
"Norena, send the maids down now. We'll start soon."
Mistress had given the two a glass of brandy by the time the three domestics arrived.
"Oh," said Laura in surprise. Her blush was evident. "Are they to watch? They're quite young.
Is it necessary?"
"Yes, I allow my maids the privilege. Seventeen is old enough by far. They'll probably help some too. Besides, once we get started you really won't think about them. Well, finish your brandy, and we'll start. Why don't you undress each other."
Laura, the older, wore a skirt and blouse, and
Sylvia wore a T-shirt and jeans. These were removed by each other's hands, followed by panties.
"Look at the tits on 'em," whispered Stacy to her two friends. "Mmm."
"Yeah," said Dania, "and the young one's are just as big too."
"She's got just as much fur too," said Trish.
"They're both nice."
Mistress always made her commands sound like a question.
"Why don't you please both stuff your under- pants in each other's mouth for the first punish- ment. Don't like you to start yelling too early in the day, and the first thing may hurt a bit. Or would you rather the rubber gags you came in?"
Laura and Sylvia whispered to each other.
"We'll use each other's pants. The rubber thing is really cruel," said Laura.
The maids were impressed with Mistress' erotic touch. They were seeing,an expert,at work, and. knew it.. The two females held their mouth open like hungry fishes, arid stuffed the intimate mate-, rial far, inside each other. Laura blushed as she tasted SyIvia's 'femaleness on the wispy material.
Sylyia,didn',t respond to her gag with any emotion at all.
"Laura's not bi, Sylvia is," volunteered Trish in whispering tones.
"Very observant, Trish," smiled Stacy.
The three domestics chose a couch, and all sat together. They could hold hands when things got interesting. Master appeared with his martini and sat in his personal chair. How elegant he looked in his dressing gown! Trish immediately went to him to ask if he desired anything, as a good maid should, but he thanked her and she rejoined her friends.
The low floor stocks were built for two females' feet, as they lay on their backs on the carpet. The protruding feet were at Mistress' waist level.
Mistress chose, from a wall rack, a split-bamboo length, before fastening the women's arms to heavy floor rings. The split bamboo made an odd noise as it traveled through the air and struck the soles of Laura's feet. Her body jerked nicely.
Sylvia followed, and squirmed vigorously from the agony.
The blows were alternated between the woman and the girl and their suffering was evident. The panty gags permitted only muffled noises, but their faces were flushed in hurt, their eyes met.
Sylvia squirmed much more actively than her older partner when her feet were whipped, and bounced right on top of Laura twice. The domestics were already holding hands from their excitement.
"Look how swollen their soles are," whispered
Stacy. "I've never seen foot whipping before."
Mistress stopped at a dozen, for the evening was long.''She had an excellent background in pacing the torture of females, and it was a.matter of cor- rectly kdttiing the activities build upon each other, and letting the recipients have time to rest and recover. She released the two from their chains and stocks, and joined her husband for a martini. It was always interesting to notice the different reac- tion of recipients after a punishment. Laura, the older, simply lay on her back on the floor, her hands over her eyes, hoping that time would lessen the burning in her feet. Sylvia spat out her wet gag, went to all fours, and shook her hair back and forth in hurt. Both knew that they would not stand up again this evening.
Mistress was very good with punishment of fe males. There was no cause to scream or rant at the reform prisoners, nor to cuff them around or drag them by the hair. That type of thing only showed poor taste, and wasn't proper. She simply tortured them with efficiency and purpose, not letting her duties turn to animosity. She had no bone to pick with them at all. Her job was to hurt them signifi- cantly without personal involvement. They would arouse her sexually, of course, but this fact did not interfere with her good judgment to the point where she went beyond reason with them. Only rarely did Mistress have one of them serve her sexually during a reform night. It was her right to do so, but she did not overuse this right. Occasion- ally, a particular female would appeal to her greatly. Usually it was one of masochistic tenden- cies who accepted her punishments with exciting resolve. Mistress became aroused by a girl or woman who could take torture delightfully, but of course, this type was rare. Most. yowled and screamed and wept, from the,hurt. Very few begged or pleaded, however; which spoke well of the females of today.:
Mistress beckoned with a finger, and the two recipients crawled over to her. Conscious of their swollen feet, Mistress was most tender in helping them upwards to the ceiling chains. Finally, both hung from the same pulley, face to face, breast to breast. They were exciting, pressed together, only their toes touching the carpet. Mistress selected an efficient-looking whip from the wall behind Sylvia.
Laura, thus, saw what was coming and responded in a most feminine way. She was not bi-inclined but she was female, and being female she became sister to her companion in the sharing of punishment.
She lay her face alongside her younger compatriot's face in a lovely scene of mutual sym- pathy. Females do not have to be lesbian to "feel" or "share" mutual love under trying circum- stances.
Mistress, this time, did not whip them alternate- ly. She whipped Laura first, on the back, firmly and severely. The lashes sounded like gunshots in the room, and each produced an emphatic utter- ance from the woman. No two were the same, but most were very loud. Females, whipped together, often respond to the pain by encircling the other with their legs. It isn't a sexual thing, it just seems to help. Laura was no exception to the rule, and soon had her legs nicely around Sylvia's thighs in hurt. Her back was being terribly striped, and though strangers, females do respond to each other's trials. Sylvia spoke and whispered to Laura time and again, trying to give her courage and stability with her words and warm closeness. It was touching and beautiful.
Stacy counted seventeen stripes on the,.woman's back before Mistress turned to the girl and began to flog her. Sylvia, being younger, was again much more animated,,her legs clenching around Laura, then releasing, then clenching again. The lovely woman could sense that her young friend simply wasn't taking the whipping as well as she did.
Eight years difference in age was significant.
Laura whispered to her, consoled her, urged on her courage. But Sylvia still howled awfully. Then it was that the true beauty of females came to the front. Laura, housewife and mother of two, had not touched female before. Yet she sought to help her suffering sister-in-pain in the only way she could at the moment. She ground her breasts against Syl- via's breasts and kissed her on the mouth, holding the kiss while Sylvia was lashed. It was indeed a beautiful sacrifice of love and concern. The girls responded as expected, and her yowls became only muffled gasps as the sensuousness of the situation struck home.
The three domestics were delighted by the inter- esting byplay of love and sympathy. Females were so dear to one another! Sylvia was having her slen- der back lashed terribly and she hardly was paying attention, so intent was she on the offerings of the woman. It was very, very sweet to watch.
Mistress did not lash their bottoms, surprising- ly, but simply twisted their wrist chains so that they stood now back to back. She began once more on Laura. The first lash across Laura's fine full breasts brought a response from her mouth like a snake in summer. It most definitely was a hiss.
Stacy was interested in Laura's reaction to the whipping of her breasts. Would she howl in protest at being whipped there?After all, the attractive woman had never been whipped before. Did she know that the whip would taste her there? Prob- ably not. Yet, she u as a woman, and in a way it probably didn't' surprise her at all It was logical to whip a female everywhere. If she were doing the whipping of another female, would she avoid the breasts? Of course not. So.
' The vision of Laura's breasts bouncing dramati- cally under the lashes was arousing to the young domestics and they squeezed closer together on the couch, arms going about each other. Stacy felt
Dania's finger on the inside of her thigh playing with the little legband of her panties. Draping her arm even further over Dania's shoulders, Stacy found her nipple with her thumb and forefinger.
A female's nipples respond the same to pleasure or pain, and Laura's were no exception. They stood erect and stiff under the punishment, as she lay her head back on Sylvia's shoulder. It was an efficient whipping of the breasts, to say the least, but the woman took it without begging, and when Mis- tress turned to Sylvia, she let her head fall onto her chest in thankfulness that it was over. The third lash on Sylvia caught her across both nipples and brought one foot up off the floor. Sylvia sang a song of agony. Very shrill and very loud. When it was over, she slumped in her chains.
"We'll take a dinner break now," said Mistress.
"Be back here at eight, girls. Why don't you have a shower and change underpants. I assume it's needed."
It was definitely needed. The shower was de- lightful but unfortunately became a rather mixed- up mess of fingers and tongues and orgasms under the warm spray. A good toweling and some fresh panties felt delightful.
"Let's get a bite to eat," said Trish. "Then it's part two. Hope Mistress lets us help a little. She often does."
"God, I think I'll die if I get to do something to them," said Stacy. "I'm glad I came to Wood- riding!"
The girls arrived back in the reform room before their employers. Laura and Sylvia hung quietly in their 'chains, well striped and docile, and were a lovely sight to behold.
"Let's play with their tits a little before Master and Mistress come," said Stacy.
"We better not," replied Trish. "We're not sup- posed to do anything to 'em without permission."
"Oh, just a little. We can hear them coming."
The argument went no further, and the domestics availed themselves of the protruding flesh. Sylvia wiggled nicely for she enjoyed the pleasures of females, but Laura maintained her neutrality. Her nipples did not, however.
"Well, Laura," said Stacy, "what have we here?
I can feel your nips gettin' nice and long under my palms. Kind of like it, don't you?"
"I'm not lesbian, young lady. Under the circum- stances there's not much I can do about you play- ing with my breasts."
The three bounced back onto the couch when they heard their employers returning. Master plumped down in his chair with an after-dinner brandy and Mistress knelt before Sylvia with kitchen pliers. Pulling out a little hair was not really one of her punishments. It was, more or less, a warm-up to get everyone in the mood again. It wouldn't be long and drawn-out, but merely a touch of class. Every female in reform should ex- pect to lose a little hair anyway. It was rather the current in thing. Like everything else, Mistress pulled pubic hair with style. Unhurried and effi- cient. She extracted several nice tufts from Sylvia, then repeated on Laura. Sylvia had not made a sound but Laura let out a gasp or two.
"Would you like to try, girls?" said Mistress.
"You may each take a tuft from both Sylvia and
Laura." The domestics sprang like cats off the couch. Stacy knelt before Sylvia and was handed the pliers by Mistress.
"No, Stacy," said Mistress. "You haven't got a large enough tuft there. Take more. That's it. Now hold her thigh so she doesn't pull forward with the hair, and pull it straight out… that's it. Good,
Stacy! Now show it to her so she can see what you took. Always show a female what she's lost,"
The three happily took their turns and returned, excitedly, to their couch. Mistress unchained
Sylvia and marched her to the heavy wooden rack at the east end of the room. Sylvia had to be helped to walk because of her wounded feet and she winced and gasped despite Mistress' supporting arms.
"Stacy, dear, you may help me stretch Sylvia on the rack." Stacy squealed in delight and her two friends pouted in disappointment.
Though Sylvia was nineteen, she looked so much younger stretched tightly between the two mas- sive wooden rollers. In such bondage, a female's legs and thighs are made slimmer by the strain, and even the fullest of breasts become nearly flat- tened and taut. Sylvia looked very young, and very vulnerable. Mistress turned the ratchet wheel to number three position and Sylvia became tight as a bowstring.
"We'll take her to number six, Stacy," instruct- ed Mistress. "You may turn the wheel to four now." Stacy turned the ratchet and the device squeaked and rasped as it met resistance from its occupant. Sylvia cried out nicely. Mistress took her turn, and pulled Sylvia to number five. The girl's eyes watered and her body arched slightly under the terrible strain.
"Take her to six," said Mistress. Stacy's heart was pounding in excitement as she turned the wheel. Sylvia's lithe body was now touching the tabletop only at her buttocks, and her shoulders were red and flushed from the torturous stretch- ing. Her scream was more of a wail.
"Ohhh, it hurts terribly," she sobbed. "Oh, God,
I'll never be bad again. I'll be a good girl, I' promise!"
"Excellent, Sylvia," praised Mistress. "That's what we like to hear from reform women. It's the whole purpose of the thing. Thank you for your help, Stacy. We leave her here now, for perhaps half an hour. You may return to the couch. Trish and Dania, your turn with Laura now. I haven't forgotten you, dears."
Laura still remained in her ceiling chains, a posi- tion most perfect for her next punishment.
"Here," said Mistress, "is a darning needle for each of you. You may put one through each of
Laura's nipples. I'll instruct you."
Trish chose the left, and Dania the right.
"One at a time now. Trish, you may go first.
Take the nipple in your thumb and forefinger and pull it out a little… that's it… now put the needle through from right to left… no, back a little further, dear, at the base of the nipple… that's it… now straight through, slowly, but firmly… all the way through so that there is about two equal inches of needle on both sides sticking out… good… good… perfect. Thank you, Trish."
"Oh, owww," gasped Laura. Her face held a look of surprise, not from the sharp pain, but from the realization of what had been done to her. Dania followed suit and matched Trish's efficiency.
I.aura let her face fall to one shoulder in complete penitence and submission, the needles glistening under the room lights.
Mistress suggested now a rather moderate recess, during which she joined her husband in his chair. Her sophistication was enviable, and most apparent, by this intelligent refrain from continued punishment activity. After all, why not enjoy the lovely sight before her eyes? There was Sylvia,
young, naked, and stretched beautifully on her rack. And Laura, pretty family woman, slumped sensually in her chains, her nipples quivering and pierced by shiny long needles. Such pleasantries to the eyes came only monthly and they were not to
– be wasted. There are those travelers who spend se much time taking photos and slides on vacation that they do not enjoy the scenery. So it is with attractive females in bondage. One is foolish to punish constantly, and become so involved in it, that one does not have time to step back and enjoy the fruits of the labor. Mistress was well aware of this, and often sat and enjoyed the visions which she created.
Too, the sophistication of Master and Mistress prevented them from disporting themselves in an unseemly manner when they sat together to enjoy the sights in the reform room. Naturally, both were aroused, but their dignity would prevent any sex- ual conduct at this time. On the other hand, the domestics were not yet mature enough to conduct themselves with reservation, and such visual re- cesses normally resulted in some kissing and fon- dling among them. Mistress glanced at her three maids, Trish sitting on Stacy's lap and necking, blouses lowered and breasts out, fingers probing delicately into moist panties. Mistress allowed such conduct among them, in understanding. They were quite young, and it would be unfair to expect them to be reserved.
The wheel was an interesting device, to say the least. It was large, and of oak, similar to a large telephone cable spool. It was supported by iron stands and its bottom cleared the floor by three feet. It revolved by an electric motor, and was designed for two females of average height. Face down, two females would fit perfectly around the wheel's circumference if their heads were placed well up between each other's legs. Sylvia and
Laura were so placed, their bodies in perfect semi- circles, their faces hidden between the fine thighs of each other, their buttocks perfectly upraised for punishment. It would not be a whip, but an official old English cane.
"When the wheel begins to turn you round and round," said Mistress, "begin licking pussy, please. As each of you turn and reach my position I will apply one cane stroke to your buttocks. You are required to lick and tongue during the entire time. You may break your sexual activity only to howl upon the cane stroke, but you must immedi- ately go back to your task. If you do not, this reform will last ten minutes rather than five."
Laura started to protest. "Please… I'm not… that way… I…" She knew it was useless, and resigned herself to her fate. The wheel began to rotate upon the touching of a wall button by Mis- tress. Laura and Sylvia began to revolve slowly.
Sylvia, of bi-orientation, immediately began her attack on Laura's sex, producing a sudden gasp from her older partner. Laura, in utter resignation and shame, probed gently with the tip of her tongue. She was first to reach the caning position.
The sound of a cane is much different than a whip. It is not a sharp retort, but more of a horrible splat. Laura howled like a wolf at full moon, and a distinct welt rose quickly upon her bottom-cheeks.
Like a dog driven by a whip she plunged her tongue into Sylvia, provoking a squeal from the girl.
The caning was more audible than visual in its pleasures. Certainly, there were the ever-increasing welts and streaks to see. But audibly, it was a banquet. There was the age-old, and well-familiar sound of cane against female buttocks, a noise which had not changed in centuries. This magnifi- cence was followed by various articulations from the female throat, also little changed from any time period or language. Scream, cry, yowl, moan.
It needed no exact description. A female in ancient
Rome or medieval England sounded no different than Laura or Sylvia.
Additionally, there was the ever-obvious sound of one female ministering by mouth and tongue to the sex of another. This became more and more pronounced as natural wetness increased in physi- cal response, and while the cane stroke and the accompanying cry of hurt lasted only briefly, the sounds of wet mouthings were nearly continuous.
Lastly, of course, and spaced far apart, were the singular cries of feminine orgasm, an oral articula- tion quite distinctly different than a cane-produced sound.
Laura, whether she classified herself as bi- oriented or not, and though it was indeed her first time, produced as many orgasms as her younger cohort. In truth, as in most cases, Laura's reform punishment would turn her to future lesbianism, although certainly under more pleasant conditions and places. When the ordeal of the wheel had fin- ished, the two recipients stood up shakily, their faces smeared completely with the emissions of the other's sex. Both were crying without reservation, and both sobbed a duet of promises to be good girls. It was, of course, touching, Neither would stand or sit properly for many days.
Master continued to impress the domestics with his elegant manners. Throughout it all, he had maintained his aplomb and dignity, though obvi- ously his wife's expert punishments had.aroused his manhood. Yet he did not fidget, or breathe in heavy pants of lust, or wipe his brow. A perfect gentleman.
He waited patiently until Mistress was finished, for the wheel had been the last reform. Now, as customary, and allowed by law, he was entitled to his due. He was not unsympathetic to the agonized bottoms of the two females, and thus he spread the couch cushions on the floor.
Master took Sylvia first, slowly, perfectly and adroitly. Despite her hurt, the girl responded as a girl should, with gently moving hips. It wasn't, of course, really a sexual liaison or pleasure. Nor could it be called rape. It was an expected and accepted part of reform punishment. A female who chose reform obligated herself to be fucked, to put it plainly. She knew it beforehand. It made no dif- ference what her age, her marital status, or her position in society. Her 'contraception was her own responsibility. Sylvia accepted the adequate emis- sion of Master, and lay back on the floor to men- tally recover from her punishments and hurt.
Laura's fucking was naturally more interesting.
After all, Sylvia was a young single, probably well into sexual pleasures. But Laura was married and a mother of two. To her, the submission meant much more, for she probably had led a sexually honest life and marriage. She did not protest, of course, for she knew her rules well. Indeed, she responded quite surprisingly to Master, thrusting and squirming to meet each of his thrusts. The domestics were pleased with her femininity. She needed only to lie there and accept. But Laura was a true female. If she indeed must be fucked, then at least act like a woman about it, not a baby. Put a . little effort into it. Join in, rather than just be, taken. Master was quite efficient physically, and poured an even greater emission into Laura's vagina than he did Sylvia, an act which produced an exquisite orgasm from her.
For the night, Laura and Sylvia were chained by one hand to a wall, so that they might sleep, the wall ring being at floor level. Mistress turned off the lights, except one dim one. She, Master, and the domestics left the room. In the dimness of the room, the single girl put her arm around the mar- ried woman and mother of two. She gave no imme- diate response at first, but then her arm also encir- cled her companion. Nothing was spoken. Indeed, it was Laura who first bent her face to the sex of the other!
They were pleasant months at Woodriding for
Stacy, and she became even more glad of her deci- sion in high school to go into domestic service. It was a most delightful life. No wonder more and more young ladies were choosing to go into such service!
The time went by very quickly, through the New
England autumn with its splendor of color, and through the snowy-bright winter. Woodriding was a fine position, by far the best she had had. The activities, although repeated, were never tedious or boring. There were of course the necessary whip- pings that domestics require to keep them efficient and feminine. Stacy liked the philosophy of calling penalties on oneself. She manufactured none, but never failed to omit one either. There were times when it was questionable as to whether a minor error of commission or omission deserved a whipping, but in such cases a good domestic chose the whipping. Stacy kept track of her whippings in her notebook, and between her start in July and the following April she had had the lash applied to her bottom twenty-one times. The strokes weren't counted, of course, but she estimated that each whipping was usually about thirty strokes, or a total of just over six hundred in nine months. It averaged, then, slightly better than sixty a month, a figure which Miss Cummins in high school domestic class had estimated for the interest of prospective domestic girls. Any more or any less by any great degree suggested that the domestic was terribly inefficient or boringly near-perfect.
Neither was very acceptable.
There were also the various playful bindings initiated by Mistress. Actually, Stacy liked being bound for it meant a diversion from tedious house- work, and thus a domestic was considered lucky if she was so favored. The reform days were always eagerly anticipated and attended. Stacy found them interesting and informative, and learned much from them, both in watching and occasion- ally helping Mistress with the application of pun- ishments. Stacy learned that females could accept surprising amounts of hurt without coming apart at the seams, and she was constantly amazed at the great number of things that could be done to females. They simply had so many interesting and useful bodily parts to choose from. Probably the most beneficial thing that Stacy learned from re- form punishments was to do the job efficiently and to pay no attention to the various screams or yowls which, to the inexperienced torturer, might prove distracting. Indeed, unless a sufficient utterance of hurt was issued by the recipient, the job was not
being done properly.
There were, naturally, the regular calls to the bed of Master and Mistress, a task shared equally by
Trish and Dania. The employers made sure that all three domestics bore the pleasure in equal assign- ments, not wishing to indicate that one was pre- ferred above another. Once again, it revealed the utter love and concern the employers had for the young maids' welfare. Naturally, each of the three believed that she was the favorite, a fact which
Master and Mistress did not dispel. It was kind of them.
The weekly Thursday trip to the alternate base- ment room was not really a punishment session, though physically it was just as discomforting with the weights. The manipulation of certain inti- mate bodily parts of domestics was simply a cur- rent fad these days among employers in most sec- tions of the nation. Domestics had no reason to complain about it, for the process certainly made these personal parts much more exciting and sen- suous. Like anything else among young girls, the exaggeration of certain of their prettiest parts was a matter of pride. Something to boast of and show other girls, to draw their envy. Dania's breasts easily reached Mistress' desired length much to the girl's pleasure. Indeed, on the occasion of serv- ing the friends of Master and Mistress, somehow
Dania always seemed to allow her breasts to "acci- dentally" fall out of her low blouse. She pleasured in the soft whispers of amazement and praise, behind her, as she left the room, her practiced walk carefully designed to produce the most sensuous bouncing possible. Trish's nipples had doubled in length under ministrations, a fact of which she was most proud. Stacy's stretching of the sex lips was not, naturally, obvious to others like the ever- revealed breasts and nipples of her friends, but she was just as proud of her new revelation. In going down on Trish or Dania, a girl need part their soft hair to find the treasure beneath, but Stacy's lips hung beautifully downwards, far below the nearest brown tuft.
In retrospect, the most fun of all were the lovely nights in bed with Trish and Dania, and the enjoy- able girl games they played each night. Some nights they laughed and romped and squealed in playful lovemaking. At other times, for no explain- able reason, the mood was sensuous and serious, producing very long kisses and throaty gasps of orgasm. The most fun of all were the cold winter nights when the three snuggled under the thick blankets. In the warm and delicious state of half- sleep, half-awareness, Stacy would feel a girl crawl deep under the blankets, and immediately feel a warm wet tongue opening up her sex orifice with expert insertion. She knew not which girl it was, nor did she care. She merely responded by put- ting her hands in the hair of her lover, as girls always do.
All three were given notice in April. It came as no surprise or disappointment, for six to eight months was the usual service of a young domestic.
One could definitely understand and appreciate the desires of employers, for no matter how pretty a domestic might be, it was fun to have new ones every so often. It was expected by both employer and domestic. Mistress, of course, arranged posi- tions for all of them before releasing them. A girl just wasn't simply released. Trish would go to
Ohio, and Dania to Long Island, to acquaintances of Master and Mistress, in trade for their domestics. A simple trading arrangement. Stacy would go to Georgia, near Atlanta, to a cousin of Mis- tress, Victoria Palmer, and her husband, John.
There was no trade here, merely a transaction of five hundred dollars. The Palmers were newly mar- ried and resided in a small but elegant plantation home. They had not as yet arranged for domestics, but were offered Stacy, and planned to obtain an- other as well.
Goodbyes were always rather sad, especially on the last day, and the three girls packed and made ready with misty eyes, sometimes flying into each other's arms for no reason. It felt odd to wear her own clothes again for traveling, and Stacy would miss her nice maid's attire.
The porch was the scene of final farewells to
Master, Mistress and Norena, all of whom were kissed properly. Even Norena had misty eyes, for the three had been very, very excellent workers.
"As of now, you no longer belong to Woodrid- ing," said Mistress. "So you needn't accept our custom of five 'goodbye' whiplashes on your bot- toms. Sort of gives you something to remember
Woodriding by as you sit on the bus and plane rather tenderly. It's just our custom, but isn't required."
There was no hesitation. Mistress had been nice to them. In fact, it was a rather interesting custom.
"The porch rail" said Stacy.
"The porch rail," answered Trish. "Skirts up, bottoms out, la de da!"
It was different to see a change from the familiar white pants. There was pink, and a yellow, and a bluish print with Dania's initials. The whip sang its song on each bottom and produced reasonably angry evidence. Sitting would indeed be rather tender, at least for today.
It was down the walk, and around the lil bushes. They were gone. Norena handed her hand- kerchief to Mistress to wipe her cheeks. She herself ,sniffled, but turned so that it wouldn't be seen.