F. Campbell - Slave Girl and the lash

"Just the housekeeper looking after you, dear?" Miss Hilde asked kindly.

"She's very nice. She let's me do everything for myself, bathe, dress, everything." Instinct told me this information was important. Miss Hilde was not much over thirty. Ancient in a child's eye, but an attractive woman. I suppose, quite apart from the cane, I had a crush on her. She was avid but cautious.

"Do you bruise easily, Euphemia?"

"Yes, Miss Hilde, but they're gone in a couple of days."

"Hmmmm. Three weeks, you said?"

"Yes, Miss Hilde." I was breathlessly eager.

"Have you felt my caning of your hands beneficial to your general deportment, dear?"

"Oh yes, Miss Hilde, I'm terribly grateful." It was like a rehearsed play, but I don't suppose we could have managed it without the stilted preliminary. Besides, we loved every word.

"I do think punishment most helpful to a girl of your intelligence, Euphemia dear. I am considering taking you a step further than just the cane on your hands… a fresh perspective for you?"

"Oh, thank you, Miss Hilde! Oh, yes please." She was well ahead of me. The furthest I could see was six of the best on my bent over bottom. I was enchanted by the prospect and wondered if I'd get it on the bare.

"Do you think you could come to my apartment for a couple of hours this evening — for special coaching, of course?" So simple! I arrived early.

"I think it much the best if you are nude, dear."

"Take my clothes off!"

"Not shocked, I hope'?" I showed her how shocked I was by stripping bare as an egg in ten seconds flat. Miss Hilde locked the door.

"I think it would be nice if I cane your bottom for starters, dear. Don't you agree'?" I'd have agreed to anything. The gates of Enchantment had opened and I had entered. But "starters!" I was too shy to ask what might follow.

"Would you like me to touch my toes, Miss Hilde?" I asked helpfully.

"You are so sweet, and so innocent, dear." Miss Hilde, surprisingly, kissed me warmly. I was in a seventh heaven. Sight of the cords and bits of rope and the straps did nothing to lower my elevation. They simply made me gaspingly excited.

"Are you going to tie me up, Miss Hilde?"

"You want me to, don't you, dear?"

"Oh yes, oh please!" It was as though I was offered the Crown Jewels. The thought of Miss Hilde's strong adult fingers tightening bonds upon my newly aware female flesh had me in a ferment of sexual excitation. At the time I thought of it only as a form of affection for my teacher. At that moment I loved Miss Hilde with a frightening intensity.

"This nice little table is just right for you, Euphemia." I'll swear it was instinctive: I knew what to do. I draped my slight nudity upon the shining surface of the narrow table she had pulled to the center of the big room. My legs dangled over the end. My breasts were only just beginning, but when my nipples frictioned on the wood they sent an urgent signal to the fire between my legs. I had become a quivering nymphet. I have wondered since if Miss Hilde had the whole thing especially made, I fitted it so perfectly. The contoured pad beneath my hips was a surprise, but it too fed the fire. When my ankles were strapped to the back legs they were well clear of the carpet and left me slightly open. This openness was emphasized when the big strap went over the small of my back and was tugged tighter and tighter until I gasped. The effect was to make my pert small bottom rear itself demandingly upon the pad and to cause my puss to peek out backwards. I could not see it, but when Miss Hilde fingered it lovingly from the rear I knew for sure where it was. I didn't have a lot of hair then, just pouting lips.

"I do think it's best to have everything nice and tight, don't you dear." She kissed the back of my neck. The touch of her lips, coupled with the new strange immobility of my person below my waist and the thrust of the pad, just about drove me into incoherence. But I came up brightly with: "Oh, it's lovely, Miss Hilde. I can't move… down there." Once again Miss Hilde's wise fingers explored my protruding quim, entering its engorged lips. "Oh, naughty, naughty!" she exclaimed archly. "Such a wet little girl!" I almost exploded. She walked around the table and me several times as though assessing her work and my plight. I expect she was simply gloating and savouring the delectable tidbit I must have been. I got kissed again.

"Do you think I should tie your hands, dear?" I was tremendously flattered by being consulted in so momentous a decision. Actually, Miss Hilde was just musing aloud.

"I think just as you are to start with, Euphemia. Are you ready now to have your dear little bottom caned?"

"Yes, please." It sounds a bit absurd now. We were so damn formal and correct. But the tone of our voices spoke more than the words. Hers was husky with emotion, mine palpitated and quavered with more vivid awareness than I had known existed. I remember the moment so well. I was surprised my hands weren't tied. I didn't know what to do with them, so I put one on top of the other beneath my cheek like small warm pillows. I was bursting with an exquisite suspense. How much would it hurt! Would I bleed! The possibility it might be more than I could bear never entered my mind.

"It's so different from having your hands caned, dear." The searing cut took me into a new world of pain and sensation. Square across my taut twin curves it split me into orgasm. I did not know what an orgasm was then, it seemed no more than a transcendent part of the glory Miss Hilde had the power to bestow, a glory beyond anything I had ever dreamed of. I reared against the buckle round my waist, more in a need to give my climax free rein than in agony. My moan was of an ultimate ecstasy. My small fists clenched upon the table beneath my back-flung head. I did not know it but I had become a woman. Everywhere in the story of me there is the whip. I think to go on and on about it is a bore, not for me but for you. Miss Hilde caned my bottom with her own cruel artistry until I screamed. Then she tied my hands down to the front legs and gagged me. I did not mind. I adored it all. The gag was cute so that we laughed over popping the ping-pong ball in my mouth and sealing my lips with the wide adhesive. It kept me adequately quiet in deference to the demands of apartment dwelling. Even when I longed to scream I knew it wise that I did not. It could be said I was the victim of a woman's lust, but between us there arose a complicity cemented without words. Each of us knew we had discovered the end of the rainbow. Even the second phase of my unearned 'punishment' that was not a punishment at all did nothing to dampen the erotic fire that sustained me through the pain.

"You are a wonderful, wonderful girl, Euphemia." Miss Hilde's voice positively throbbed with happiness. "It is time now to really punish you. You do want me to, don't you?" The moment the loving fingers peeled away my gag I spit out the celluloid ball and gasped ardently: "Yes, oh yes! Oh, Miss Hilde, you're so good to me." I was utterly sincere, utterly hers, loving her in a way I had never known love in all my eleven years. The bitter and awful scald of my caned bottom was instantly forgotten in the fresh promise of erotic fulfillment.

"It is a punishment for big girls." I swelled with pride and, I suppose, lust.

"You will be tied more beautifully, dear." What a wrenching of the heart it was to be set free! I parted from my bonds with sorrow, looking in awe at the red indentations on my wrists. But I was a'quiver with expectation.

"Sit on the floor, Euphemia." I watched the tight buckling of the leather anklets with fast beating heart. I was seeped in happiness. The black bands held all the beauty of costly jewels. I was to be punished as a 'big girl', but how were big girls punished? I was soon to know.