The Prisoner

Chapter 60.

It was only a matter of days before the ladies of the coffee morning and many others had implemented the suggestions made by Wardress Sinclair.

The leather punishment straps had been ordered and delivered with the necessary oils for the intended recipients to rub in on a daily basis. The straps were each hung close to the prisoner’s bed with the date and time of the next application. One owner had even supplied a large calendar and told her servant to ensure she ticked off each day with the punishment days ringed in red felt tip. And each day the strap required oiling, even on the day of application.

Some owners decided on an early start for the time of maintenance beating. One prisoner was required to wake his owner at 6am and with him naked on her bed she laid on the strap in her night dress and with bleary eyes..... but,... full force. Others chose more civilised times, purely for their own convenience.

One example was a Mrs Redfern, a forty year old local councillor who had managed to acquire a young 20 year old male university student. Her husband had left her and she had spent some of his alimony in bribing an official to lay her hands on one of the younger ones. “The boy” as she called him had been with her for a few days that were for him blissfully free of any punishments.  Then a large parcel of equipment arrived that would, as she put it, enable her to train him properly.

She kept him dressed in jeans, trainers and an open necked shirt for the sake of propriety in case anyone visited. Once she had become used to having him in the house addressing her as “Madam”, her confidence grew and she was ready to reveal her true nature.

She had previously worked as a librarian and still retained the dowdy look so common in that profession. Greying swept back hair, round rimless glasses and despite a heavy but well breasted body a rather pudding face had never made it easy to find boyfriends...but now her search was over as this one could be modelled to comply with every fantasy. She cancelled her membership of weight watchers as she now planned to spend more time indoors.

It was Friday night when she lay the implements that she had just received on the kitchen table and called him in to stand in front of her.

She was not particularly sadistic by nature but had always wanted to be in a position of authority over a male and instinctively knew that inflicting pain was a sure way to ensure obedience.

The boy stared nervously at the items on the table. Until then he had hoped that he was with one of the rare owners who simply used the prisoners for household duties but now realised that the humiliations and pain he experienced in the Correctional Centre were to be continued.

She told him that she had been far from satisfied with his behaviour and manners since his arrival and that she was now about to deal with that. He had yet to be examined so he was to strip naked in front of her.

This had happened countless times in the Centre, but it all seemed very strange to be doing it in front of what was obviously a housewife and in her own kitchen. He knew better than to question and order and removed first his shirt, then trousers, socks and trainers. Finally he slipped his small underpants off and, without being told, sprang to the present position.

He was taller than Mrs Redfern and well built with an athletic body that had been well exposed to the sun even in the Correctional centre. The white area of his buttocks were still marked by thick bruise lines where he had obviously been caned before leaving for this house. She had heard that he had been abused by several of the wardresses and always seemed to benefit from firm rather than kind handling. As expected, the embarrassment of being exposed started his penis to erect.

She motioned for him to stand closer, then reached forward to grasp his penis with some force.

“From your report I note that this has been the cause of several punishments when you were in the Centre. Several times you were up for a beating because of your inability to keep it in check. I have considered whether to put it in restriction but then decided that it would be more fun to leave it free to behave or misbehave...as your self control should dictate. You will keep the head uncovered at all times while you are here!”

She harshly pushed the foreskin fully back, making him flinch.

“And you had better keep it clean and deflated whenever I see or inspect it.  Furthermore, I shouldn’t have to mention that any failure to attend to it’s hygiene will also irritate me...and believe me boy....you really don’t want to do that!”

She moved her hand away.

“I will overlook this little stiffy of yours on this one occasion and I don’t have time to carry out a full check of your other genitalia right this moment as it is time for your Maintenance Beating. I will lay this on every Friday night at precisely8pm.”

She picked up the new, light brown stiff and inflexible strap and drew it lovingly through her left fingers.

“This is new and stiff so expect the edges to leave a few weals. It will be in your own interest to rub some oil into the leather over the next week so that it will be a little more supple before your next “Maintenance”. Now to the rules that you will follow every Friday night in preparation for your beating:

At precisely 7.30pm you will go upstairs. Strip, and take a thorough shower. This will be using just the cold tap and I will check to ensure that you do not use any hot water whatsoever. All heating will be turned off in the bathroom and both the windows will be wide open. You will not use a towel to dry yourself but instead you will stand in the draught from the windows until you are reasonably dry. At exactly 7.55pm you will stand outside the small bedroom which has been adapted into a punishment room where you will receive any disciplines you have earned. You will stand on the white disc that I have placed near the wall at the present position no matter how much you are shivering with the cold.  At 8pm I will call you into the room and lock the door behind you. Without being told you will then kneel on all fours on the leather bench and await your beating.

In accordance with the rules for Maintenance Beatings you will not be secured and must remain in position until I tell you to stand. Any penalty strokes will then be announced and you will resume the position to take them.”

She then added ominously that any other punishments that had been earned in the preceding 24 hours would then be inflicted.

“It is now 7.30 boy. Get yourself upstairs to the bathroom and start your shower. I will be in the punishment room preparing the equipment and will call you in at the appropriate time. You can collect your clothes from down here later.”

The young male nervously climbed the stairs and entered the large bathroom. The windows were indeed fully open and the temperature had dropped to the chill of the outside night air. He noticed that a paper seal had been placed over the hot tap in the shower cubicle so there was no way he would be even tempted to increase the temperature of the water.

Bracing himself he opened the cold tap on the power shower and was hit be a fierce deluge of ice cold water with a force that stung his skin wherever it hit. He applied the soap as quickly as he could and then moved around under the cold downwash to remove it flinching as the needle jets hit his now exposed glans.

He left the shower and stood as ordered on a mat next to the windows. The breeze and his own hard rubbing with his hands soon removed most of the water and the violent shivering that had involuntary started displaced more. A short prison hair cut helped to partially dry his head but it was a wet and shivering male who took up the present position awaiting the call.

When he was summoned into what had been designated as the punishment room he marched in and took up a position on all fours on a long wide leather bench eighteen inches from the floor. Before he lowered himself he noted the bare white room with the boards over the small window and the rack on the wall which now contained the results of his owners on line shopping. She stood dressed in a tight white shirt and wearing a short black skirt, feet apart holding the new tawse in her hands ready for the event to start.

She positioned the shivering male with knees wide and elbows together with his buttocks well back and his back dipped.

“I would advise against any form of protest be it verbal or unnecessary movement. You should bear in mind that the standard dose is merely eight lashes but any fault in accepting that punishment will result in penalty strokes and the number of those is entirely at my discretion. We will now start.”

Determined to make every stroke count she moved round to his side and raised the strap over her right shoulder. Pausing only to inhale a deep breath she brought it rapidly down to strike across the centre of his buttocks with a loud “Thwack”.

It took just a split second for the pain to hit his brain and overcome the shivering urge. Instinctively he uttered a brief expletive and forced himself  to remain in the designated position.

Each subsequent stroke was delivered with Mrs Redfern’s full weight and his buttocks were soon swathed with red bands of fire with what would be sore lines as the edges of the inflexibly new strap dug into the skin. The last stroke came low down almost at the top of his thighs but somehow he held on desperate to avoid giving her a reason to inflict any penalty strokes.

“Present!” came the order and he leapt to it thankful that the ordeal was over. He held himself rigid and resisted the natural urge to massage the searing pain away.

Mrs Redfern reached down and grasped his limp penis.

“I’m pleased to see that you are controlling this object at least boy, but what a pity that you couldn’t control your vocal cords. I am disgusted that you should have used such a foul word in my presence especially when I had warned you. I appreciate that you are in some pain at the moment but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t award some penalty points for the outburst. Now let me see....there were four letters in that word...so four extra strokes should be sufficient...unless of course you misbehave again as I lay them on!”

He felt sick with fear. Having assumed that the punishment was over it was hardly more than half way through. He wished that she had strapped him down so that the option of moving was not his. He knew that any refusal to hold his position would be dealt with by laying on even more pain so knelt on the bench as she directed, clenched his fists, forced his mouth tight and waited.

To his surprise she lifted one leg and straddled him facing his rear. He could feel the plump inside thighs brushing against either side of his body as she inched her way down his spine. She leant over and stroked the back of his right thigh with her left hand resting her right hand holding the strap on his buttocks.

“Two strokes down each thigh then boy...brace!”

She carefully and accurately laid two strokes down the sensitive rears of each thigh from the still burning band at the top to just above the inner fold of each knee. It hurt like hell but her victim managed to remain in position helped by her weight on his back.

She climbed off and ordered him back to the present position.

His face and mouth indicated the pain level that the routine punishment had achieved and the knowledge that this would be repeated every week at the same time for no reason other than policy didn’t help. Fortunately his months in the Centre had taught him that the only attitude to take was one of acceptance and submission which he did his best to display as he waited to hear whether she would deem the way he had taken the strap to be sufficient or whether even more lashes would be laid on.

She smiled and said that he had been a good boy so she could now move on to introducing him to the other implements.

“I intend to keep you on a tight rein so you will be meeting these implements soon enough. So that you can appreciate the need to keep in my good books I will let you feel a couple of whacks from each of them. In view of the state of your buttocks right now it is fortunate that this is just the start of my collection, however, as I can’t pretend that they will do anything other than inflict considerable pain. We will start with the small paddle which is normally applied to each buttock in turn.

Back in position with your head well down backside properly presented and knees together.”

She leant over the reddened throbbing buttocks with the tear shaped wooden paddle raised it,.... and brought it down with a loud slap on the right cheek. Slowly and precisely she then repeated the blow to the other cheek.

His head was dizzy from the pain but he saw her stocking covered legs as she moved around him to hang the paddle up and replace it with the oblong board pierced with holes that would be next.

He could remember seeing that type used in the Centre on the females with the larger meatier backsides. Whereas the smaller one could be used for prolonged beatings, he knew that the larger one impacted with some force over a wide area and so was regarded as a really severe punishment that left wide and deep bruising.

It was, and it certainly did...taking his pain to even higher levels as the effect of the two heavy whacks soaked in.

Back, albeit still squirming, at the present he had to watch as Mrs Redfern systematically replaced the board on the hook and took down the cane that was hanging there. She lovingly ran it through her hands then bent it almost double to observe its cruel flexibility. Finally she gave it a few full powered swishes through the air.

“Mmmm so much pain for so little effort...which is why it has been the favourite instrument of disciplinarians since time began. You know boy, it can be plastic, leather covered or just plain old fashioned bamboo like this. They all hurt like hell as I’m sure you already know. You have felt it in the Centre I take it?”

The nervous lad was made to tell her about his worst caning. How a young Chinese wardress who had it in for him contrived to be the one who awarded an official punishment that he was due and how, being given at the evening punishment session it was videotaped and he was forced to watch it afterwards with her.

She was 18 years old and very slim with black hair in a long plaited pigtail under her uniform hat and rimless glasses. She walked around him checking that the straps that held him to the caning frame were secure and that his legs were the correct distant apart to spread the buttocks and that his back was dipped tightening them. She then retrieved a soggy leather gag from the floor where it had fallen when the previous victim, a middle aged woman was released, forcing it into his mouth and fastening the strap behind his head.

She looked towards the lady Governor who was heard to announce the sentence:

“Miss Lee, please lay on 24 strokes with the grade two cane to the buttocks and... and at your discretion, the thighs”.

Miss Lee replied with a curt “Yes Madam.” and removed her uniform jacket then her tie handing them to the female prisoner who was assisting her. She selected the cane from the rack, swished it a few times to get the feel of it and then moved into position to the rear and behind the waiting

prisoner. She placed her feet well apart to give herself  balance, raised the cane high over her right shoulder, raised herself on to the toes of her uniform boots  and brought it whistling down to lash into the centre of the buttocks.

She considered herself rather privileged in being allowed to thrash during a formal punishment session and was determined to impress the Governor. She had decided not to lay the strokes evenly but to concentrate them on a six inch wide band on the lower part of the buttocks so that many of them would be overlays. This technique was brutal rather than scientific and always resulted in more pain for the victim and therefore more credibility for herself.

The prisoner was soon screaming into his gag and the band of cane strokes swelling to meet the next impact. Watching the video, with his nates still throbbing made the boy relive the entire event especially when the last four strokes were brought slashing into the crease between the thighs and the buttocks.

He was brought back to the present when Mrs Redfern asked what happened post thrashing. The boy explained, blushing with shame and embarrassment that he had to report to Miss Lee in her apartment for what she described as a post-punishment inspection.

Once he was stripped she did indeed check the state of his buttocks and thighs with her sharp nails as he bent and grasped his ankles. She then however told him that he would now be obliged to “relax” her as she termed it or face further beating from her personal strap that she had clipped to her waist.

He just couldn’t face yet more pain so made no protest when she led him into her bedroom, lay on the bed with her knees up and thin legs well parted and pointed commandingly up her skirt. He crawled up from the bottom of the bed towards the white pantied crotch either side of which were the tops of the uniform stockings and the suspenders that supported them.

At this point Mrs Redfern herself was blushing with lust more than embarrassment and she indicated that he was to stand astride the bench with his hands flat on the surface so that he was almost bent double. The skin on his buttocks had already tightened so he achieved the position with some difficulty.

“This will be two full strength strokes that will make the paddle seem like love taps so you need to brace yourself against irritating me and therefore needing further penalties boy.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw he twist her hips as she raised the cane and herself, then heard the ominous whirring sound increasing as she un-twisted and then the impact across the centre of his scorched buttocks. The pain was indescribable...but it always was with the cane.

That, he thought as he forced himself to remain in position, was why she was using it on him.

The second stroke followed almost immediately and at least it wasn’t an overlay he thought. But bad enough.

Within seconds he was back standing but this time Mrs Refern stood almost touching his stomach with her breasts, She looked up into his eyes.

Perhaps boy, that is your last exposure to pain tonight...or perhaps not. You will now have the chance of...as your Miss Lee called it...relaxing me. If you behave and perform well...all will be good. But if you don’t you can expect to be back over this bench for more of the same.

Do you understand?”

He most certainly did.

She lay on her back on the same bench that he had suffered on, raised and parted her knees and he found himself yet again moving up between the thighs looking at a plumper panty crotch. However much he was repelled by the idea of providing this service to a much older woman he knew that refusal or even a lack of enthusiasm could not be an option.

He had no idea but not far away another prisoner was being abused against all the rules of this community service concept.

A fortyfive year old female by the name of Susan  had, until the past year, been living in what she thought to be an ideal marriage. Both her husband, who was in his forties and she both worked in different professional occupations that guaranteed an excellent income and luxurious life-style. She was a natural blonde, five feet 6 inches tall and blessed with good looks that had only just started to fade and perhaps, in her complacency, she had started to lose the girly figure that men found so attractive.

When she discovered her husband’s involvement in an affair with a girl less than half his age she was furious. Most of the money in their relationship had been from her family trust fund so on deciding to divorce him she felt confident that he would be the loser when it came to the house and a distribution of funds.

And so it would have been had it not been for her outburst in court: Everyone who knew her had been aware of a certain arrogance to those she considered her inferiors and she was soon being reprimanded by the Lady Judge, who had started the case very much in support of the wronged wife, for outbursts including calling the young girlfriend of her husband a slut and a tart. Knowing the rules, the girlfriend did her best to play the innocent, knowing that it would hurt and wind up the older woman that she intended to replace.

The final outburst came when the Judge made a sympathetic remark to the girl who had pretended to be innocent of her boy friend even being married. At this point Mrs Lang completely lost it and screamed at the Judge that she must be totally incompetent and in siding with the girl friend, a useless bitch who should be fired.

This was of course a civil rather than criminal court but the status of the judge must never be questioned. Controlling her temper the Lady Judge ordered her to be held pending the arrival of the police and being conveyed for trial under the new regulations that dealt severely with anyone who questions female authority.

At her trial before magistrates she did her best to apologise and gain the  sympathy of that court for the way in which she would lose everything if they pronounced her guilty, She was, after all, an innocent party.

The three magistrates were hardened to such pleas and determined to uphold the integrity of the Judge. The verdict was Guilty and the sentence was to be confined in the nearest Correctional Centre for a period of not less than one year.

That one outburst, occasioned by the little girl lost attitude of the girl friend had lost her everything. All her money and all her property would now automatically be handed over to her husband and she would be locked up in one of the hell-holes that she had read about.

Her treatment within the Correctional Centre was no worse than that of any of the other female prisoners. To a basically rather naive and shy woman from a sheltered background it was horrendous. The constant harassment and physical cruelty were bad enough but she could not initially cope with the “personal services” that the wardresses and occasional male warder believed that they were entitled to enforce.

A few trips to the guardroom for unofficial thrashings and a couple of formal beatings that marked her record changed her attitude...at least outwardly to the point that she was considered for work in the community.

Little did she know that her ex-husband’s  new wife had been monitoring her progress through an old school friend was on the Centre Staff. As was usual in these corruption cases a large sum of money, what had been her money, changed hands and she was told that she would be released for work the next day, but given no idea of who her new employer would be.

There was the usual routine medical that the centre Nurses made as humiliating as possible followed by the by now traditional thrashing in the guardroom by one of the policewomen. Dressed in the prisoner school girl outfit she was stripped below the waist, strapped down on the caning bench and twelve strokes laid on hard across her naked buttocks by a buxom female police sergeant. She entered the Centre transit van still sobbing and clutching her few possessions.

She scarcely looked at the other prisoners as they sat with their panties around their knees in the uncomfortable grills. Needless to say, the male driver found every possible bump in the road to add to their discomfort as their bruised bottoms slammed down on the metal seats and they received frequent blasts of ice cold or piping hot water to aid their hygiene requirements.

One by one they were dropped off to their new owners, each hoping that they had drawn a kind person in what they knew was the lottery of allocation.

Had she been near a window Susan would have recognised the area in which they were travelling, then the road. When she was released and allowed to pull up her panties the female wardress grasped her left arm tightly and led her out of the vehicle.

There are no words to describe the shock a she realised that she was at what had been her house. She half stumbled to the door and when it was opened by her ex-husbands new wife she almost passed out and hoped that this was some horrid nightmare from which she would soon awake.

It wasn’t. With scarcely a glance the young wife signed the formalities for the handover and the wardress left leaving Susan standing in the hallway with her new owner.

The new wife was aged just 22. Tall and slim with small breasts and a pert young face surrounded by short dark hair. She was casually dressed in jeans, trainers and a thin sweater. The expression on her face was not that of a warm welcome.

“I understand that your surname before you married was Lang, so that is what you will be called in this house. You will address me as Miss Sophie and my husband as “Sir”. Don’t expect anything but a hard time from both of us and I have my husband’s permission to inflict corporal punishment on you subject to his final approval when he comes home.

This means that you may expect a punishment any evening when you have displeased me. Additionally I have permission to use a light strap on you at any time for minor offences. I think that I will start by interviewing you on a formal basis so follow me though into the study.”

She led the way into a book lined room and sat in a comfortable office chair behind a large desk. Land was motioned to stand in front of the desk on a small carpet that had been positioned for the event.

“Stand to attention when you are in my presence until told otherwise...and I won’t tell you again that I require a curtsy when you approach me or vice-versa.”

Not wishing to antagonise the girl, Lang bobbed a curtsy and stood rigidly at attention with her hands at her side, shoulders back and feet together looking straight ahead as she had been taught in the Centre.

There were the usual questions about her training and how many punishments she had attracted. Then Sophie moved on to the personal things concerning her new prisoner. First she asked about the departure beating that she had received only a few hours previous and whether it still hurt. Having been told that it did, she ordered Lang to turn around and then part her legs and bend fully over for inspection.

The poor woman could not believe that this was happening to her, but had had the required level of obedience beaten into her at the Centre so did as she was told, even though the skin covering her backside was now tight and still hurt.

“Lift your skirt up over your back and grasp your ankles.”

Her regulation white prison panties were now displayed with the bruises and weals of what had obviously been a severe caning extending either side of the panty seat.

“Stand up, removed your panties, hand them to me and then back into position.”

Blushing deeply, Lang did as she was told and resumed her position but now blatantly displayed to the young girl.

“Why aren’t you shaved around your crotch Lang?” Sophie enquired.

Bent almost double Lang explained that it was up to the wardress in charge of a squad as to whether body hair would be allowed or not. In the case of her squad no shaving was allowed.

“Mmmm well...we will have to discuss this with my husband and see what his preference is for servant women. From where I am sitting it looks straggly and untidy...but we will see.”

She then stood, walked around the desk and proceeded to run her fingers along each of the horizontal marks that the cane had made. Several times she dug her sharp nails into a particularly prominent weal at the lower part of the spread buttocks making Lang gasp and flinch. She then ran her fingers down between the thighs playing casually with the protruding inner lips of her vulva. Suddenly she pinched the lips together and pulled down hard exposing more of the crinkled flesh. Lang gasped and her knees bent inwards slightly in reaction.

“Right girl, stand up and removed all your clothes for a proper inspection”

Again, Lang could not believe that this was happening to her...and in what had been her own house. However, the training she had received over the past weeks from callous wardresses prevented any form of rebellion and she quickly stripped naked in front of the young girl.

At first Sophie ignored her as she carefully examined first her panties then her brassiere for any marks.

“We will be cutting down on your underwear washing while you are here Lang. As from now you will wear my cast off panties that I have already worn...make sure you keep them clean. As to your bra’s...the chances of fitting udders your size into normal underwear is zero, so you can wear some that I have bought for you. You will only change your underwear when I tell you to. As regards your toilet arrangements, you may only use one of the bathrooms after I have visited the toilet that way we don’t waste valuable water on you. It will be up to you to request permission each time.

As to bathing: I will let you know when you can bathe and as you will be using my old bathwater that will save even more water for the planet. During the night a bucket will be provided in your room but I don’t expect you to overuse it.

Is that clear?”

Lang, eyes down, muttered a “Yes Miss Sophie”.

“Now...I understand that you have to undergo a full body cavity search every so often in the Centre..so I don’t see why you should not have one here. This will be thorough and uncomfortable and any attempt to resist me will be dealt with later. Is that clear Lang?”

Without waiting for an answer Sophie picked up a pair of blue latex gloves and slipped them on then moved into a position directly in front of the trembling woman. She ordered her to the present position with hands on head and feet wide apart then corrected it by pushing the elbows even further back.

“The purpose behind this position is that it gives me clear and unobstructed access to your entire body...access that I intend to use to the full”.

She circled the woman holding her gloved hands in the air in true medical fashion, then sat on her desk looking at very hairy underarms.

She stood and grasped a large tuft of the coarse black armpit hairs with each hand.

“You must smell like a rancid goat when you have been worked hard girl. I presume that you were not allowed deodorants in the Centre and you will certainly not be allowed any here. Assuming that my husband is happy with a hirsute servant and can live with the smell you may have to remain unshaved...we will see.”

She stood back in critical appraisal of the woman.

“Not a wonderful body is it Lang? From your podgy tummy, drooping breasts and flabby backside you must have been taking things easy for the last few years. We will have to see if we can’t lick you back into shape while you are here, even though I understand that at the Centre you regularly had remedial PT to shape you up. Let’s take a closer look at your breasts.”

The girl paced a gloved hand under both breasts and lifted them up whilst looking over their upper surfaces. They were heavy and spread down to the side of each supporting hand.

“I hear that they gave out breast canings in the centre Lang. Did these ever feel the cane?

Lang blushing furiously again stammered that they hadn’t been caned, but that she had collected two Breast Related Demerits.

“So one more error and they would have had the cane across them. Mmmm...you had better watch your step here then girl as any “B.R.D” that you collect here will make up the magic three and they will have to suffer the consequences.”

She suddenly dropped them and they slapped against the chest wall.

“How sensitive are the nipples?”

Before Lang could reply she gripped each nipple with her hard fingers and lifted the breasts as high as they would go. The pain was intense and Lang had to fight to remain at the present by baring her teeth and grimacing. One of her BRD’s in the centre had been for touching an inspecting wardresses hands to alleviate pain such as she was now going through. Somehow she managed to remain still and the breasts were again dropped against her chest.

Told to lay flat on her back on the hard chest Miss Sophie moved into position between her feet then told her to hitch forward lifting her feet in the air and bending and parting her knees to the full extent. She knew what was coming, but despite her growing fury at this cruelty she simply dare not raise the slightest objection.

Sophie started by gently playing with the frilly outer lips then ordered her to reach around her thighs and pull the already gaping outer lips wide apart. She introduced on finger and circled the obvious clitoris several times before stroking the fleshy nub hoping to elicit some reaction from her prisoner servant, but none was forthcoming.

If there was one thing that Sophie and most females hated it was having internal examinations. Knowing this she applied some oily lubricant to her right hand and rapidly introduced her gloved fingers into Lang’s spread labia with no thought for any discomfort that the action might cause.

Which it did.

“For heaven’s sake girl, you must have had regular cavity searches in the Centre, so don’t play the virgin with me. Frankly you are so slack that I doubt you can even feel me.”

She spent several minutes probing around finding the areas which seemed to cause the most discomfort from watching the anguished look on Lang’s face. Finally she drew the hand out and told her to get on all fours.

She carefully positioned Lang in the most humiliating way she could think of. Head down with her rear up and back arched so that the dangling nipples touched the desk surface. A sharp slap on her inner thighs encouraged her to spread them even further.

Sophie dribbled some more of the lubricant down the hairy anal cleft and then introduced it to the puckered anus with first one then two then three fingers. When Lang moved forward in reaction she followed pressing the fingers uncomfortably deep and twisting them around with a curt order to keep still.

She eventually withdrew with a loud squelching sound, and pinched a tuft of the dense wiry hair from around the anus between her finger tips. She tugged hard managing to pull several hairs out by the roots... to Lang’s audible discomfort.

“Better get used to that sort of trimming girl. If I decide that your body hair should be removed it may be the way that I do it. I really don’t think that my husband would approve of me using his electric razor on such a scruffy untidy bitch!

“Now we have to decide what you should wear in my service. I have laid some clothing out on your bed in your room. Follow me.”

Sophie walked up two flights of steps to the attic and went into a room that in Lang’s day had been empty. It now held a simple iron framed bed with just blankets and coverless pillows. Underneath was a shiny galvanised bucket. The one window was high in the sloping roof and had no curtains. The floors were bare wooden planks of some age with just a sheet of cold plain linoleum covering the bed area. A heavy approved type strap hung ominously on the wall

On the bed lay a collection of female clothing that had been recently bought from one of the cheaper charity shops. It was obvious that Sophie intended her servant to look and fell as drab as possible.

She held up a small pair of white bikini panties.

“I have just taken these off when I came back from the gym. Hardly fresh and a little sweaty, but that is something that you will have to get used to. Just make sure that you keep them clean girl!”

As Lang struggled into the undersized garment she was handed a well worn brassiere that had been white when new and was now grey with age and countless washes. It had lost most of its elasticity and offered her little support as it was a larger size than ideal, but it was, she thought, better than nothing.

Next came an equally grey suspender belt and a pair of black stockings with several small holes that she quickly donned. Finally a whitish blouse with short sleeves and open neck and a short dark blue skirt was handed to here that completed her dress for her new life. At least she wouldn’t be required to wear the ridiculous school uniform but the down at heel clothing she now wore would hardly be a morale booster.

“You may know girl that we are required to give you a Maintenance Beating every week to keep you on your toes. We have decided that you will receive it at 7am Monday morning when you bring our morning cup of tea to wake us. This will not only give you something to look forward to over the weekend but also start the week off on the right foot. You will bring the strap with the tea and having placed the tea cups by the side of the bed you will strip naked and then hand me the strap when I reach for it. I have to give you eight strokes good and hard and if there are any errors on your part in taking the punishment I will also lay on some penalty strokes. Today is Friday so it may well be that you are still a little sore from your Centre caning come Monday, so you need to start considering how you will summon up the self control that you will need to take the strap without any form of restraint. Naturally that assumes that it will not be necessary to apply any corrections over the weekend...but again...that is up to you.”

Sophie went off to eat lunch with no thought whether or not her new servant was hungry. She had set her a long and unpleasant task of scrubbing the floor of a large conservatory that had not been clean for some time so there would be no time for the pleasures of life.

She was allowed a ten minute break for a glass of water at around four pm then had to work hard with a bucket of disinfectant suds, scrubbing brush and mop, mainly on her knees, until she had finished.

Naturally her work was inspected and it was with some relief that she was allowed to put her cleaning equipment away in the kitchen cupboards. She heard the front door opening and realised with mounting horror that her ex-husband had returned from work.

He strode into the kitchen and passionately greeted his new wife seemingly oblivious to the woman in the corner. When they had finished embracing Sophie casually pointed out the dishevelled servant. Lang was routed to the spot as she faced her ex-husband for the first time in months. Surely some vestige of compassion would show in his face when he remembered all the good times that they had shared.

Suddenly he turned to his new wife and spoke:

“Why in the hell didn’t she curtsy when I looked at her, hasn’t she been taught any manners in that place? Take her down to the basement and give her half a dozen with the paddle to teach her some respect!”

Sophie could not have been more delighted. Rather than show this she feigned concern for the now trembling woman.

“I’m sorry darling, but she is new and her poor bottom is really sore from a Centre thrashing she had earlier. Could you let her off this once?...Lang, bend over, raise your skirt and show the gentleman your bruises.”

Somehow, Lang choked back her natural reaction to refuse and bent almost double reaching behind to flip her skirt up. Sophie walked over and suddenly pulled her tight panties down to fully display the mass of weals and bruises.

“Your concern and kindness does you credit Sophie darling, but this is a convicted criminal that we are dealing with. I have been firmly advised that the only thing that works with them is discipline and as long as she is under my roof that is what she will receive. Make that 12 with the paddle and lay them on so that she feels every one. Just to check that your kindness hasn’t obliged you to go easy on her, I will inspect her back in the bedroom when you have finished.”

Sophie muttered a respectful agreement and told Lang to follow her as she led the way to the basement room they had lovingly prepared for her stay. From behind Lang could not see the satisfied smirk on Sophie’s face as she anticipated the satisfaction of administering her first beating, a beating that she fully intended would impress both the recipient and her husband.

The basement was a large one with whitewashed brick walls, bright overhead lighting and a damp musty smell. In the centre was a wooden frame that Lang recognised all too quickly as a punishment horse. Other items of furniture were spread out along with various items of gymnasium equipment. On the far wall there hung an extensive array of implements that had been bought in at no small expense to be used for applying discipline.

Lang dutifully stood to attention at the foot of the steps. The total silence was broken by Miss Sophie’s voice:

“Look Lang, I had hoped to avoid causing any more bruising to your backside as I can appreciate how tender it must be...but I have no choice. My husband has instructed me to lay on twelve slaps with the paddle and insisted that they must be laid on hard to really hurt you. The only thing I can do to help is to allow you to be secured so that you don’t earn any more for trying to avoid it.”

She walked over to the instrument rack and took down a wooden paddle the size of a hairbrush. It was half and inch thick and obviously new with a shiny varnished finish.

“He wants evidence so I will have to concentrate on one spot on each buttock...sorry...but that is how it is. Now let’s get this over with. Take off your skirt and panties then mount this horse.”

With increasing fear Lang did as she was told and climbed up on to the horse. Each punishment hurdle was different and this one could be adjusted to present the target just how the disciplinarian required. Lang found that her knees were indecently forced apart and her upper torso was much lower than her buttocks. Velcro straps soon secured her lower leg to the horizontal supports and a thick belt across her lower back forced her stomach into the padded leather of the horse back. Her lower arms were then strapped to similar horizontal rests as her legs.

“Unfortunately this particular setting on the horse device adjustments  is designed to fully display the female genitalia to any witnesses, but as we are alone tonight, that shouldn’t be a problem. If I was to use a strap or cane it could actually hit across your crotch so count yourself lucky that it is the paddle girl. Feel free to yell as much as you need, this place is soundproof so you won’t disturb the neighbours.”

What Sophie didn’t tell her victim was that two video cameras were recording the event and that it was automatically relayed to her husband’s TV upstairs.

“Oh,  just one further thing, I don’t like having to do this and it is for your own good, so I won’t take kindly to any insults that you may utter in extremis. I would have to give you extra and neither of us really want that do we Lang?”

Sophie selected an area on the plump right buttock, low down so that it would also hit the tops of the thigh, raised the paddle and brought it down with a loud “splat”. Lang lurched against the straps and exhaled sharply.

Five more strokes were laid on the same spot with just seconds in between giving Lang no time to take in a deep breath.

The pain level was still climbing when Sophie decided on a spot on the left buttock and repeated the six hard slaps with the paddle.

Lang clenched her teeth and absorbed the insult of the pain as best she could. She had expected it to hurt...it always does...but the added humiliation of having to take it from someone half her age and now holding the position of power over her made it infinitely worse. Tears of both pain and humiliation ran down her cheeks as the straps were undone and she was free to lift herself off the contraption and stand back at attention.

“Right Lang, slip on your clothes and report to my husband in the study, and don’t forget to curtsy when you leave me and meet him otherwise you will be back over the horse for more.”

Having bobbed a curtsy Lang made her way up the stairs with her buttocks still feeling as if they were on fire. She hurried to meet he ex-husband knowing that the next few months would be hell for her.