CHAPTER FOURTEEN
William's enjoyment of the subjection of Julie and Tina was being mirrored in
another part of the township of Brookdale where James was continuing to put
Becca through her paces.
"Six!!" exclaimed James. "I think that your backside will require more than
that to display the rosy red of a well strapped bottom. I suggest that twelve
will be better, and yes you may count them!!"
Becca cringed as James exclaimed. "Yes Master." She murmured quickly.
James stepped to Becca's left and he swung the strap swiftly up and back, and
then brought it down with all the strength of his arm across the relaxed flesh
of Becca's bottom cheeks. It made a sharp cracking sound as it slashed across
the centre of Becca's buttocks and James smiled as he waited for Becca to count.
"Did that hurt?" James questioned Becca.
Without waiting for Becca to answer, James swung the strap again, hitting the
offered buttocks halfway down the lower curve just above where they met with the
silky white skin of her upper thighs.
"I really enjoy whipping such a succulent piece of arse." James said, being
deliberately crude in his description and he whipped Becca's rapidly reddening
rondures of flesh again, and then again, and again, lashing the strap across the
quivering jouncing flesh. James continued until Becca's buttocks were striped
with the twelve rapidly reddening stripes of agony that displayed the effects of
punishment.
James paused to take in that luscious sight.
It began quick and went even quicker. Becca grit her teeth against the first
cry that formed in her throat as hot pain spread over her proffered buttocks.
She spoke the count and turned her head slightly to look at James for his
question. The next hit came as she opened her mouth to reply and forced a real
yell from her.
"Thank you Master." Becca said in response to his statement. On it went.
Becca counted loudly between each strike and was screaming by the end. She
truly couldn't tell if the strap was worse than the cane or not. The cane bit
deep and covered a narrow area but the strap as well cut into her though it's
punishment was broader. It seemed to be heavier as it struck her as well.
All of this she thought as she straightened again, whimpering in pain. "Thank
you for correcting this slave Master." She murmured softly. The entire area
from the swell of her cheeks to the tops of her stockings was now a deep
scarlet, some areas darker, from overlapping.
Becca stood in front of James now with her skirt still up. She did not relish
the idea of pulling it down over the burning skin. She sniffled and wiped under
her eyes. Desperately she hoped that they would not meet anyone on the way to
the restaurant.
"You look handsome Master." She said after a moment. Her lips parted again, as
if she was about to say something else but she stopped. Asking if he would
enjoy it more if she made him something would be a very transparent way of
showing she did not want to go out with her back side so thoroughly punished.
With much resignation, Becca lowered her skirt before her Master would have to
tell her and stood by to see if he had any other orders before they left.
James smiled as he heard Becca's compliment and his smile grew wider when he
considered the discomfort that awaited Becca at the restaurant having to sit on
those fiery red buttocks, as she ate her meal.
"We will walk into town to the restaurant, but you will ensure that you walk
slightly behind me to my left." James instructed Becca, and he led her from the
house and commenced to walk the short distance back into the town.
The evening was pleasantly warm with a slight breeze, which Becca felt caressing
the petal-like opening of her cunt, her skirt stirring slightly as she walked
allowing brief glimpses of her reddened bottom cheeks.
Shortly after they left the house, James saw the woman he had encountered
earlier walking towards them. She was still dressed in the long black dress that
appeared to be one size too small for her full figure. Her hard features were
uncompromising, and her eyes glinted, as she saw James and Becca.
Becca dreaded the fact that they did indeed come across another person on their
walk, let alone that it was the same cruel looking woman as before.
"I thought it would not be too long before you had the pleasure of displaying
such a tasty morsel around town. Off for some dinner are you?" she questioned
James.
"Yes," responded James. I have a table booked at the small Italian restaurant
in the High Street."
"I congratulate you upon your choice." The woman replied. "I don't think we
have yet been introduced," she continued. "James Quentin I understand. I am
Denise Houghton and I own the real estate office. I am sorry that I was engaged
when you called for the keys to the house, a small domestic problem but the maid
soon felt more than the edge of my tongue."
James smiled at the inference of her words. Obviously some poor woman was now
feeling the effects of a caning or possibly a whipping, as she reflected on the
penalties of being a slave/servant in Brookdale.
"Yes, I am James Quentin," he replied. "And this is Becca Wilson." gesturing to
the figure of Becca standing behind him. "Present!!!" James instructed Becca
and, as he waited for her obey his command he said to Denise. "Her bottom has
already become acquainted with several of the corrective implements at the
house. Perhaps you would care to examine the effects of the strap across her
buttocks?"
Becca jumped at the order and quickly took position. It would not do to delay
under normal circumstances, but in front of another would be unforgivable. Thus
with a fresh and deep blush, Becca took the pose, thrusting her breasts out as
she clasped her hands to the back of her neck. Her legs spread properly, her
gaze remaining directed to the ground while her head remained high.
The woman would no doubt take up the invitation to examine her aching backside.
This had the effect of a faint trembling through her body as if she were
straining under an enormous weight. James's wording also seemed to declare that
her welts were from punishment not just for his pleasure. Becca felt ashamed on
top of her myriad other feelings as the woman would know she'd needed correction
Eying Becca as if she were a succulent morsel to be devoured, Denise took in her
thrusting breasts and the legs apart stance that Becca had adopted. Flipping up
the short skirt that barely covered Becca's flame red bottom, Denise laughed
appreciatively when she saw the fiery bands criss-crossing the white flesh
displayed before her eyes, enhanced by the frame of the red suspender straps
held taut on her thighs.
How she managed to hold the position as the woman stepped closer then behind to
lift her little skirt was unknown to Becca. She trembled more than ever and was
certain her cheeks would burst into flames with the heat of her blush. The
woman's laugh was cold to her ears as she looked over her punished flesh.
"I see that she will be somewhat uncomfortable at dinner." Denise commented.
"Remember to ask Lucia for a slave seat, that is if you permit her to sit in
your presence. He has several chairs that are used when slaves are allowed to
sit in the restaurant, that I think you will find entertaining. Instead of
fabric and upholstered seats, these have hard wooden surfaces that are covered
by up-turned bottle tops designed to torment and aggravate the soft bottoms of
slave-girls."
Becca was unable to stop herself from looking up as Denise described a slave
chair at the restaurant. She looked to her Master, concerned about the pain
that would no doubt cause the welts across her buttocks. Silently she pleaded
with him to be merciful, knowing full well that it would be another couple of
hours before it wouldn't hurt to sit, even on a normal chair. Realizing her
actions were disobedient, Becca quickly returned her gaze to the ground. She
didn't dare speak.
Seeing the look of trepidation in Becca's eyes as she heard the description of
the slave chair, James mentally decided that he would ensure that she made its
acquaintance at the restaurant. ~ The torment of the bottle tops would be
entertaining for him to watch as he enjoyed his meal. ~
"Perhaps you would like to join me for a drink at the restaurant later, and you
will be able to see the results of the slave chair at first hand." James
suggested to Denise.
"That's very kind of you, James." Denise replied. "But I will have to decline
your invitation as I have an unavoidable chore to complete this evening. One of
my maids, Anna, a young chit of girl of 23 is in need of severe correction and I
promised myself that she would be the recipient of some severe punishment before
the day is out. Although, as an alternative suggestion, as I live only 2
minutes walk from Lucia's instead of having after dinner drinks at the
restaurant, why not join me for a drink at my home."
"Most civil of you, Denise." Responded James. "I am sure that Becca will
welcome the opportunity to demonstrate the efficiency of the bottle tops, and
also the chance to see how a Mistress deals with those in her charge."
"I will expect you between 9.0 and 9.30pm. The house is 27 Bramley Street, just
turn left as you come out of Lucia's and Bramley Street is the second turn on
the left." said Denise and she bid James her farewell, but not before addressing
Becca saying "I'll look forward to seeing you later, my dear." Her tone of voice
dripping with an air of unconcealed menace.
James then continued his walk to Lucia's, his appetite whetted by the prospect
of Becca witnessing the maid's correction after dinner, whilst her own bottom
would be still smarting from the effects of the slave chair.
The nervous slave had held her position during the entire exchange between the
two dominants. Yet she trembled the entire time, Becca did not like this woman.
She felt she was very bold in the way she spoke to her Master, but it was more
that Denise had been the one to suggest the horrible sounding chair for use,
that had Becca wary of the Mistress.
Now they were going to visit her home after supper. Becca knew she could say
nothing and did not raise her eyes again to show her feelings. Then as the
woman spoke to her, Becca could only swallow hard. Her feelings towards Denise
quickly changed from dislike to solely fear of her. She was afraid James would
allow the woman to touch her and while it was mostly fear of the cruel woman, it
was also something akin possessiveness only reversed. She was her Master's
property; she didn't want anyone else to touch her, but him. Becca knew this
was not her choice but she hoped that if she told him over dinner, he might feel
pleased by something like that.
On arriving at Lucia's, James saw that the restaurant contained about twenty
tables, most of which were already occupied by diners. As he was escorted to his
table for two, James asked the Maitre de, in a voice loud enough to be heard by
his fellow customers to have one of the seats replaced by a slave seat. He was
heartened when his ears picked up the comments of approval from the other
diners, who watched with eager anticipation as a waiter brought over a slave
chair.
Becca tried to shake off her apprehension, she had stood by silently as James
requested the chair and felt her cheeks colour anew, as the comments rippled
about the room.
The slave chair looked like any ordinary dining chair, but the seat was of solid
wood into which had been set some 120 upturned metal bottle tops, each with a
serrated edge that promised agony to the naked flesh of unfortunate slave.
The fact that the very same flesh was still smarting from the strokes of the
strap would be an even bigger torment.
James gestured to the waiter to leave and stood behind Becca holding the chair
ready to slide under her as she sat down. "Make sure you lift your skirt well
up, my dear." James instructed her. "We want our fellow diners to see how red
and fiery that well-chastised bottom of yours really is!!"
The chair looked worse than Becca had first imagined, she had thought it would
be merely a few tops, and that they would not be serrated as they were. The
pain it would cause would no doubt be unbearable, she hoped she'd be able to sit
still and keep from embarrassing her Master by crying, or worse begging for
relief.
She could delay no longer as James held the chair for her. Becca looked between
his face and the chair before turning to take her seat. As instructed, she
lifted her skirt up to her waist above her bottom to more appreciative comments
from nearby patrons, and sat down slowly and carefully while James slid the
chair in.
"Thank you, Master." She said softly. The next sound was a quick intake of
breath as more of her weight settled her battered buttocks to the chair and
pressed the sharp edged into her still burning welts. A second later she
whimpered in pain and clenched her eyes shut tight.
James watched Becca's anguish with a smirk of satisfaction on his saturnine
features, his eyes showing the excitement he felt at compelling the woman to
press her naked, well-beaten buttocks down on the jagged bottle tops. ~ That
welted skin must still feel really sore and tender, even after the time taken to
walk to the restaurant. Still, in future she will realise that when I set a time
limit, I expect her to comply with the restriction imposed. ~
Although Becca had still not allowed her full weight to rest on the seat, it was
bad enough already. She leaned forward with her hands gripping the edge of the
table, her legs beginning to tremble within seconds of her attempting to avoid
the worse of the pain from the chair. Becca knew her Master would not be
pleased with her for remaining that way, and steeled herself to more agony.
Another few seconds passed and she still had not found the courage to withstand
the bottle tops on her tender cheeks. Becca whimpered again and was easily
awakening the pain with her trembling that seemed to vibrate her over the
serrated edges. When she could support herself in that odd position no longer,
Becca settled completely with a bubbled up cry of pain.
Her eyes opened slowly after a few seconds and she turned to James to see his
reaction to her taking her seat. Her eyes were already watering with pain as
each tiny, sharp tooth bit cruelly into her welted backside.
"Please Master, your slave apologizes but she cannot bear the pain." Becca
whispered before she could stop herself.
~ Were his ears deceiving him? Was she requesting mercy? Did she have the
audacity to ask for leniency? ~
James did not respond immediately, but sat for a moment as if considering
Becca's heartfelt request and whether she should be excused from sitting on the
slave seat.
Becca sat through the torture of waiting and agony; every twitch of her body
added to the pain in her backside. When the instruction finally came she looked
so relieved it was shameful but before Becca was able to thank him, James
continued.
Her eyes darted about the restaurant, trying to imagine just what he would order
her to do. Becca looked genuinely frightened by the idea and whimpered softly.
"Very well, you are excused." James instructed. "However, I have decided that
you will still feel pain, but not the physical sort, but more the mental anguish
of public humiliation."
Allowing a moment's pause to allow his pronouncement to sink into Becca's
psyche, James continued. "You will lift up the hem your skirt and tuck it into
the waistband so that your bottom and pussy are fully on show. Then you will
open all the buttons of your blouse, pull it open and tie it behind your back in
order that your breasts are fully displayed."
James then looked around his fellow diners and noticed the interest and
anticipation displayed in their expressions said. "Becca, prior to commencing
the meal, you are to walk to each table and using words that demonstrate a
manner of suitable subservience, ask those seated to feel your cunt and breasts.
After they have felt and examined the offered parts of your anatomy, you will
ask them for a recommendation as to your punishment for your failure to remain
seated on the slave chair."
Seeing the looks of sadistic eagerness on the faces of the other customers,
James eagerly awaited a varied selection of punishment recommendations that he
planned to consider on her return to his table.
Becca stood as James finished and obediently pulled out her blouse to unbutton
it and tied it behind her back. With her eyes glued to the floor, Becca
arranged her skirt as ordered. It took away from the relief she had at standing
from the slave chair.
"Yes, Master. Thank you for your mercy Master." She murmured softly, her voice
sounding incredibly close to tears as she dealt with the effort it took to stand
revealing herself to the restaurant. For a moment, Becca feared she'd not be
able to move and if she took one step it would start her running from the
restaurant.
She did not run, she merely turned to the nearest table; she didn't look around
to try and count the tables. It wouldn't matter if there were merely three, it
would be just as humiliating. Becca straightened her back and clasped her hands
to the back of her neck, her legs spreading. He had not ordered the position,
she took it upon herself to present for the patrons in hopes of softening her
punishment.
"This slave . . . desires that you feel and examine her breasts and cunt." She
murmured and was greeted by the man cupping his hand around his ear, an evil
grin on his face.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't make that out, slave." Becca blinked back her tears.
"This slave desires that you feel and examine her breasts and cunt, Sir." She
said more clearly. Her face was crimson, as bright as some of the welts on her
ass.
Becca kept her eyes lowered as two pairs of hands extended to her body. Her
breasts were lifted and squeezed softly, the hard nipples pinched. One hand
slid between her parted thighs and over her sex, Becca realized she was wet at
that point and only blushed darker if it were possible. Her legs trembled as
the hand slid along her moist folds then felt a lone finger penetrate her. Much
more of this and she knew she could very well shame herself further before the
whole restaurant. She dreads that she still has the rest of the restaurant to
visit.
The hands retreat and Becca sighs gently. "May this slave know your
recommendation for her punishment for her failure?" She asks clearly but low in
volume again. Becca did not know what she would do if these customers are more
sadistic than her own Master.
"Yes, slave. I would recommend you be whipped by the staff, against that wall
there," the gentleman points to a far wall with manacles dangling from the end
of chains. "So that we may all be serenaded by your screams as we eat."
The woman with him makes a much milder suggestion and comments that she does not
wish too much screaming with her dinner, as it will disturb conversation.
Dismissed, Becca moves on to the next table.
The scene is played out over and over again. Some laughter is heard as she
reaches another table and the slick folds of her cunt are discovered.
"You should not be allowed to feel release, that is for certain, shameful
display slave, finding pleasure during your punishment." Commented a male
diner, but the voice was amused and tipped his head to James in compliment.
Acknowledging the gesture James responded. " In the short time that she has been
my slave, she has shown herself to be a complete pain slut who revels in any
humiliation ordered by her betters. I just don't think that she can control her
eagerness to demonstrate what a whore she really is."
Her task complete, her body flushed with her arousal even as tears rolled slowly
down her cheeks in humiliation, Becca returned to her Master and awaited his
decision.
There had been many suggestions given, one woman had suggested Becca be stripped
and made into a living candelabra, that she lay across her Master's table with a
candle on each breast and at her sex, held in place by the wax. Another man
suggested she be denied dinner, except from her Master's hand as she knelt by
his chair. A variation had her eating from a dish on the carpet. One man had
complained that another had beaten him to the punch by suggesting Becca be
James's plate for his meal and instead added that he have a nice juicy steak,
the cuts being superb in this restaurant.
The laughter that had rippled about had frightened poor Becca and begun her
tears. One had merely suggested that if the first woman did not wish to hear
the screams, Becca be strictly gagged and whipped and that they each have a turn
for desert.
Now she stood, presenting herself by her Master's side, trembling badly, her
inner thighs glistening with her moisture.
