“Y-yes M-Master,” I murmured, dying of shame to have to answer such embarrassing and humiliating questions.
“As much as when I used the strap on your plump backside, my dear?”
His hand kept moving back and forth along my trembling bare behind, and, knowing I had to answer him no matter how much my modesty or pride suffered, I stammered in a low voice, “N-no M-Master… not as much as then. But your hand s-stings a lot.”
“Good, then the correction is effective. I had asked myself whether using just the hand on such a plump pretty backside as yours, so firm and solid, my dear, would make itself felt enough so you would know you are being punished. Tell me, Lucille, did your parents ever spank you with just their hands as I am doing now?”
“Wh-when I was a little g-girl, yes M-Master.” Oh, wouldn't he please finish it, I was dying to beg him. This was so humiliating that tears stung my eyes and I huddled my legs together and tensed myself, while his hand kept going back and forth, slowly, oh, so slowly, over my tingling naked flesh.
“When did they start to use the switch or strap, Lucille?”
“I… wh-when I–I… think it was when I was… f-fourteen, Master.”
I was getting more and more ashamed and afraid of him because of this strange behavior. I wanted it to be over… and… and know… what he was going to do… after that.
“They never whipped you stark naked, though, Lucille?”
“Oh, n-no, Master.
That seemed to please him, for he chuckled as he patted both my cheeks again and said briskly, “Then it seems I was really the first to begin your proper disciplinary education, and explain why you are such a naughty girl, my dear. Now get your lovely backside ready, for I'm not nearly through spanking you with my hand.”
“Y-yes M-Master I–I-I'm… ready,” I groaned as I tensed my fingers on the legs of the chair and crossed my ankles again to steel myself. With this, again increasing the tight band of his left arm over my waist, he resumed spanking me, and with what seemed more harshness than before, for after four or five of these smacks, I began to cry again and my heels kicked up spasmodically every time his hard stinging palm landed on the cheeks of my furiously smarting bottom. However, he used the same regularity and time in between spanks, so I was able to grit my teeth and prepare for it, though the burning grew more and more acute as his hand tirelessly descended on my smarting reddening flesh.
“Oh, please,” I sobbed, when he had given me thus some twenty new spanks, “I'll be submissive and obey you. I won't ever feel sorry for the servants when you whip them, Master… Please don't spank me anymore tonight. My bottom's so awfully sore.”
“I have finished spanking you, Lucille,” he said with a last blow that drew a tearful cry from me, and then began to feel my bottom with the hand that had so cruelly stung my poor behind, while keeping me pinned down with his other hand. “That is, the first part of your punishment, which was to be with the hand, is over. Now you may have a choice for the first time, my dear, as a test of your docility: either you may accept the second half of your punishment immediately or wait for an hour. But in that case it will be with a switch instead of with the hairbrush I planned to use on your naughty bottom right now. Which is it to be?”
“Oh, Master, Master, you're not going to spank me anymore tonight, surely? Oh, but you've spanked me so awfully hard already, I couldn't stand anymore. Oh, please, Master, I promise faithfully not to make you angry again by talking to the servants or being sorry for them if you spank them. Only let me off this once. Oh, please, Master? You spanked me so hard, I know I couldn't stand anymore tonight.” I was crying now and restlessly rubbing one calf and ankle over the other because my poor bottom was burning me terribly, and the idea of being whipped some more with either the hairbrush or the switch seemed dreadful to me. I turned my tear-stained face back up to look at him and appeal to him.
His eyes were glowing and his face flushed as he stared back at me deliberately and replied, “I will let you off on one condition only. Do you want to know what it is, Lucille?”
“Oh yes, yes, Master. Please tell me. Oh do let me off without any more spanking,” I sobbed.
“I am going to Selena's room to talk to her and quiet her down after her whipping, Lucille. When I come back in about an hour, if you will come to my bedroom in your nightdress and nothing else, bring me the hairbrush on your knees, and ask me to pardon you by giving you just a dozen hard spanks with it on the bare backside, and after that to poke you, and ask me humbly and sweetly, I will remit the rest of the punishment I had intended to give you. Do you agree?”
I was nearly dying of humiliation, lying with my stinging, burning, reddened, naked bottom upturned and squirming over his lap while he held me down with one arm and stroked and felt my behind with the other hand, hearing him discuss the shockingly intimate terms on which he would relent in whipping me in such casual fashion. But the idea of submitting to a prolonged spanking for as many blows-I had no doubt now it would be that-with either the hairbrush or the switch, either right away to get it over with or to have to wait a terrible hour of suspense for him to come back and finish me off, put me in such a state of terror that I was ready to agree to anything else that would spare my poor bottom more suffering. So, with a sobbing groan, I stammered faintly, “Y-yes M-Master… I–I agree.”
“That's fine, my dear. I told you I had hoped some day you would be perfect. Now get up and take a shower and then lie down and wait for an hour by the clock. Then you will come to my bedroom in your nightdress and with the hairbrush and kneel down and tell me what I've just told you to say. You understand?”
“Y-yes M-Master. I–I will. P-please,” I sobbed, as I got up painfully, wincing at the furious waves of heat that seared my poor bottom and stood before him in my shameful nakedness of shoes and stockings and nothing more, my face swollen with tears. He looked me over greedily, then got up and nodded curtly.
“An hour, no more, no less, my dear. Otherwise, I shall be obliged to withdraw my generous alternative, and you'll go back over my knees for the full dose your naughty backside really deserves.” And with that he left me.
I burst into hysterical tears as a result of the nervous reaction and the pain and shame, and at last composed myself enough to take a warm shower and brush my teeth and get ready for bed. I put on my black nightdress and turned red to my throat to remember how I had worn it that other terrible night when he had strapped and whipped me… and… and… done the disgusting, cruel act that still made me shudder and feel nausea and repugnance for him and for myself too for being party to it. Then I got into bed, setting the alarm clock beside it, and tried to compose my distracted nerves. I began to wonder why he had gone to see Selena, and then I guessed with a sensation of utter horror and disgust that he had probably forced the poor girl to make love to him and that was why he had been so excited while just spanking me with his hand and wanting me to put my own sentence off for an hour.
And he would come to me from her and want me… to… to… give myself to him… after that… Oh, if my parents had only known what sort of a creature he was, perhaps they'd never have sold me into this shameful, humiliating, cruel bondage…