Anonymous - Experiences of a Country Girl

He chuckled seeing me droop my head now and turn red and he replied, “I understand your tender sentiments, my dear, but I heartily disapprove of them. When a girl has been naughty and is being whipped, it is only what she deserves. To show open sympathy implies that the one who is correcting her is at fault, and for that, my dear Lucille, you are going to be punished now.”

“Oh, Master,” I exclaimed in feverish anxiety. “Honestly, I didn't think that, not at all. It was only-it-it hurt her so very much and I–I c-can't stand pain or-or see others having to endure it.”

“In that case, as you are my ward and I am bound morally to correct any bad tendency on your part, you will know then that when I am whipping you as I intend tonight, it will be to see that in the future, if you happen to observe Rosa or Selena being punished, you won't make a show of those feelings. Besides, it's reason enough for you to have been given an order. You know what happens when you don't obey it at once, Lucille. Now take off everything but your shoes and stockings and by-the-by, one of these days I must drive into town and get some new clothes for you. You haven't much of a wardrobe, and I like to see a lovely girl dressed in clothes that set her off at her best. But that sort of talk is in the nature of a reward, and you surely deserve anything else but that, so let me see you begin to undress at once.”

There was no help for it. Miserably, I started to take off my dress and then my slip, trembling and wondering what instrument he was going to use on my poor bottom this time. At least, I thought with some consolation, he had put away that terrible leather whip. Blushing again with shame, for I was unable to view calmly the idea of being naked before this strange and relentless man who had bought me as a slave from my parents, I managed to remove my brassiere and then hesitantly slipped down my step-ins, stepped out of them, bent to put them with the rest of my clothes on a straight-backed chair, and waited, arms at my side, head bowed, biting my lips to keep back any pleas for mercy which I felt, but knew would only add to his anger with me to utter. He seated himself in the armchair as he had before when he punished me, and said, “Put yourself across my lap, Lucille, by yourself. I expect you by this time to be submissive and to know exactly what I require in the way of obedience. I trust I shan't have to employ sterner measures as I did at first.”

“Oh, no. I–I'll do everything you order, M-Master,” I stammered as I made my way to him. And I had, of my own accord, to lie down across his knees, which somehow this time felt more shameful and humiliating than when he turned me across his lap as he had previously done. For it seemed I was actively preparing myself for this intense and painful humiliation.

I gripped the legs of the chair with my hands as I bowed my head and waited, trembling and with closed eyes, for the spanking, but he did not at once begin. Instead, he passed both hands over the cheeks of my bottom quite slowly, pressing, patting, and caressing my naked flesh till I was in an agony of outraged modesty and embarrassment. Then he said at last, “Hm, your lovely bottom is almost itself again, my dear. There are a few faint lines from the martinet which I used on those plump cheeks of yours Wednesday night, but aside from that your backside has that charming soft white color I enjoyed turning to a good spanking red. This time, since your fault was one I can tolerantly understand and hadn't warned you about before I am not going to use the martinet on your behind, but you are going to get a sound spanking just the same, partly to make you continue to remember that you must always be humbly submissive and never repeat a mistake I have once corrected you for. Then too, as I have not yet given you a real spanking, which is with the hand, I am going to start your punishment with a thorough manual correction. And now that you have exchanged views with the servants, I imagine you will be even more careful than in the past about letting them hear your cries. Are you ready for your spanking, Lucille?”

“Y-yes M-Master… I–I'm terribly sorry I–I did wrong.” I tried to soften him so he wouldn't spank too hard, because even if my bottom wasn't discolored any more after the other two nights, I knew it was still very sensitive and tender.

“That's the proper attitude, my dear,” he approved, gliding his palms over my shivering and contracting naked bottom, “but I find it more sincere and convincing if a naughty little girl is having her lovely backside spanked at the same time she is thinking it. So now you may prepare yourself for the first part of your punishment tonight, Lucille.”

With this, curving his left arm around my bare waist, a precaution he had not taken before, probably because, as he had said, he wanted to see if I showed absolute submission by staying in position, he brought his other hand down hard on one of my bare upturned cheeks with a loud and stinging smack. The shame of this and the reaction on my nerves from these first days in his power and the recent scene with the servant girls must have tautened my nerves a good deal, for I burst into tears at once.

“I had no idea your naughty behind was so sensitive as that, my dear,” he chided me mockingly as he patted the cheek he had just spanked, tightening his other arm around my naked waist. “I am afraid in that case you will have plenty of reason to cry during your chastisement, and you must not think that you will beg yourself off by doing so. Or perhaps I had better tie you. If you are going to cry at the very first spank, you may find it difficult to stay in position before I finish.”

This calm threat utterly terrified me, and, looking back up at him with tear-stained face, I gasped, “Oh, Master, please don't tie me up. I'll not beg off, I promise I won't. Please don't tie me.”

“Then you'll remain in position through the good sound spanking I am going to give your naked backside, Lucille?” he asked, again patting my bottom at the place he had first smacked.

It was fearfully embarrassing to have to carry on such a humiliating conversation while lying naked across a man's lap about to be spanked and already stinging with a foretaste of what I was going to get. But I couldn't risk making him angry, and so I stammered, “Yes, I will, Master. It-it-it's only that seeing you… seeing you whip Selena frightened me so and… and my b-bottom is still awfully uncomfortable from… from the other time.”

“I thought as much. Then perhaps, seeing how sensitive your flesh is, my dear, you'll take particular care not to make me whip you too often. Because if I have to punish you too frequently, I can only think that you are naturally disobedient, which would mean severe discipline. Now get ready, Lucille, and remember to stay in position.”

“Y-yes M-Master.”

I gasped faintly as I turned my face around again and closed my eyes, crossing my ankles one over the other and waiting miserably for the stinging hail of blows to visit my shrinking bottom. There was something else that was making me feel even more ashamed of getting this spanking than any he had given me before and that was that, although I was naked across his lap, I wore shoes and stockings, something which I can't quite explain, made me feel more shamefully displayed than if I had been all bare.

He began to spank me rather slowly now, keeping his left arm tight round my waist, first smacking one cheek, then the other. This time, though, he didn't scold and lecture me as he had done the previous times, which rather surprised me. But the spanking was not less mild because of that. Though the regularity of the blows on first one cheek of my bottom and then the other enabled me to prepare myself for the next to come, still the vigor of his hand and the long pauses between spanks became very painful to me, and I was crying softly by the time he had reached twenty, crossing and uncrossing my ankles restlessly, huddling my bottom and trying to diminish the area of naked tender reddening flesh so helplessly and shamefully upturned to him. I held onto the legs of the chair with my hands and kept my eyes closed. I was somehow relieved at being able to do this and know he wasn't looking at my face to see if I was crying. Mr. Raleigh stopped a little while and ran his hand over the cheeks of my bare bottom while I squirmed with shame and the increasing heat in my seat, controlling my sobs so as not to offend him and to show him humbly I was being docile and submissive just as he wanted. His hand seemed to quiver as it stroked my bottom, and I was nervous because of his strange new behavior, wondering what new torture it portended for me. At last he said in a hoarse voice, “Your bottom is getting quite red, my dear, but you needn't think I've finished punishing it by any means. Does it hurt by now?”