Jewkes flexed the long slim leather of the switch that he carried in his hands. “Bend right forward, Maggie, and keep perfectly still!” He did not know, of course, what the frolicsome lads had done to her. Personally, I was delighted to hear Mag given a command she could not possibly obey. “Keep your bottom still, you young slattern!” Maggie mewed desperately through the wad in her mouth but she could no more control her maddened squirming than she could fly. Her pale broadened hips twisted side to side and the blond ponytail rising from her bum-hole brushed to and fro across the bare spread of the young working-girl's backside. Jewkes's expression did not change. He walked across and stood just behind her, watching the writhings of the girl's stocky thighs and broadened hips. He took the plume of the false ponytail and tucked it under her waist-strap out of the way. Measuring the cold leather switch across her flinching buttocks, he gave the young blonde a long minute to imagine the agony of naked leather-discipline which she was about to feel across her bare rump. The stones of the yard sang to the smack of the whip across the pale sturdiness of Maggie's bottom-cheeks. A frenzied cry was just audible through the wad in her mouth and the short tail of her own blond hair swept to and fro across the back of her collar.
Jewkes thrashed her with the carefully measured strokes of a judicial whipping, impersonal and without pity for the hard-faced young blonde.
Maggie's firm and stocky young thighs squirmed together harder and faster, for all the world as if she sought relief by bringing herself to completion. “Keep your arse still, Maggie, you young bitch!” He found the most sensitive areas, high up on the backs of her thighs and low on the softer undercurve of Maggie's full buttocks. With great precision he raised six blueberry weals which interlaced cruelly. “I'll have obedience from you, Maggie, you young tart!” he said, almost laughing at her. “Keep that backside still!” He made the leather whip flash down again and again, so that it kissed Maggie's bottom-cheeks with streaks of agony. He even whipped her across the backs of her knees and then gave her a dozen stingers round her thighs. “Now your bottom, Maggie,” he said quietly, “Let's see how much more you can take before you decide to obey me and keep absolutely still!” What a contest it promised to be. I have no doubt that Jewkes must have seen Maggie at her work, bending lewdly in tight denim, or polishing on all fours with the jeans-seat taut and smooth over her sturdy young buttocks. I daresay most men who paused to admire such a view would have been implacable with her now. And so he was. He whipped and whipped with all the strength of his arm. At last Maggie's knees bent under her, though the straps held her over the bars. Her lank blond hair broke from its ponytail and fell about her face, as her head hung down. In tribute to the power of his discipline, the young window-dresser swooned arse-upwards over the bar. What a price many of her casual admirers would have paid for a keepsake portrait of her as she now appeared!
The gamekeeper withdrew and left the stable-lads to prepare her once more. Half a dozen of the boys came out. One of them held the little bottle to her nostrils. Each of the others, in turn, presented his unbuttoned stiffness either in the area of her thighs or her backside. The young blonde was unmuzzled and revived to the virulence of the pica-pica itch. In the most plaintive accents of her lilting young voice, Mag begged them for the soothing balm which was in their gift. She whimpered to have each little sausage-like prick in its turn either placed between her legs or bum-cheeks. With the threatened return of the gamekeeper, there was no time to penetrate properly. Instead three of them took turns. Each of them placed his hot young gristle between Maggie's bare legs and she worked the inner surfaces of her smooth pale thighs upon it, asking only for his squirted balm to soothe her itch. These vigorous lads soaked her in grand style, though they had a fine reward. Maggie was so frantic to be eased that she gave each boy a splendid time, giving each one more fun than they would even taste on their honeymoon nights. The remaining three lads supplied her elsewhere. This time each young sausage was laid between the cheeks of Maggie's bottom. How the young blonde squirmed and tensed her broadened bum-cheeks upon them. She was even more desperate for them to spend than the lads themselves. Maggie is a hard-faced young bitch and yet she can give a man some fun when she puts her mind to it. I watched her employ every trick in the armoury of the most perverse young whore to coax this second triple spending from the boys. In this she succeeded. By the time they left her, Mag's rear view was amply splattered, from the curves of her arse-cheeks down to the middle of her thighs. I had been so engaged by this amusing spectacle that I had quite forgotten Lord Augustus at his window. He stood there now, mouth agape and eyes wide in astonishment at what he had seen. If ever a man were turned to stone by the glance of the Gorgon, it was he. Before he could gather his wits, however, the gamekeeper-my own man Jewkes-reappeared.
You may be sure Jewkes smiled to himself when he saw the state in which Mag now presented herself. “I'm glad to find you feeling randy, Maggie,” he said taunting her. “Does the thought of being harnessed and driven excite you so much that you must even seduce the stable-boys? Such fine stripes across your bottom and legs as well! I daresay some men would be lenient with you, seeing that you must have been whipped already. I view the matter differently. To see such weals across your buttocks is bound to put some very cruel ideas in to my head…” And so he drove his filly between the shafts of the little carriage, sitting on the driver's perch behind her and watching the young blonde's stumbling and labouring over the bar. The short leather tail of the pony-lash was most convenient and he made her feel it more times than one could count. As the young woman's stocky thighs strained to pull forward the load behind her, her buttocks rounded and contorted in a thrusting and swaying rhythm which fascinated him.
Best of all was the last mile which lay up the steep path of Snow Hill itself. The young blonde's broadened hips and backside shone in a pale gloss of her own sweat. She gasped for breath and writhed over the bar with the most demented energy. Best of all, the steep incline exaggerated her movements. Her thighs squirmed together in an almost masturbating tightness, while her bare hips surged and swayed.