Archived from the Yahoo Strip-Search 4 group, posted on Nov 5, 2013.
REFORMATORY CORRESPONDENCE
by
Watcher
Part 2
Dear Mr Cooper,
I can still barely bring myself to set pen to paper so distressed
am I by the recent events. As you will be unaware of what
happened, I will give you a full accounting so that you may
come to understand the full gravity of the offence committed
against my person. I blush to recount all the sordid details.
I arrived at the reformatory at the normal time, though I was
surprised to see that it was not Miss Grey who was assigned as
my guide, but a Miss Hunt. I was given to understand that Miss
Grey was not on duty till the evening. While I had grown
accustomed to Maxine, I found that Miss Hunt was an adequate
substitute. I was told that several gentlemen were due to arrive
shortly in advance of Justice Night to pick out suitable candidates
for your work-release plan. I found myself somewhat annoyed that
no one had informed me that the often spoken-of but never-explained
Justice Night was upon us. I had made my interest known, and I
think it was a poor reflection upon yourself and Miss Grey that I
learned about it only by chance.
Nor had I been told of this work-release plan. I made my
displeasure known to Miss Hunt, because I was greatly
troubled by the idea that any of the delinquents might be
released before their complete sentence had been served.
She set my mind at ease and took me to watch the proceedings.
There. in one of the yards. I watched as the delinquents were lined
up like soldiers on parade. Each was instructed to extend her arms
to the side and move apart from the women on either side of her, so
that, with hands outstretched, they were not touching. At this
point their shifts were taken from them, and they were left
standing in the open yard naked.
It was then that the gentlemen arrived, and I learned how your
plan worked. Each of these delinquents came from what is now
being called the middle classes. Before they arrived here, they
considered themselves superior to the common riff-raff, though
none had a title among them. A stint of reformatory discipline
had changed that, and they were now quite happy to accept the
lowly position of scullery maid in a great house.
The gentlemen were most thorough in their inspection, and it must
have been most embarrassing for the creatures to stand there still
as statues, arms out and legs apart, all freshly shaved, as the men
discussed openly their features and compared them one to another.
How they blushed, but, as red-faced as they became, not one dared
move, for I was sure that any breach of discipline would earn them
a quick strapping, and they certainly had no wish for that.
Proceedings were interrupted when there was a quick shower, and,
together with the gentlemen, I beat a hasty retreat to shelter
where we could watch the girls standing still in the rain. Most
of the gentlemen with me were greatly impressed by the sight of
rainwater flowing freely over young, nubile flesh, and I will admit
that there was a beauty to the image, so much so that I regretted
I had no talent for art, as otherwise it would have made a most
pleasing sketch.
By the time the shower passed, they were thoroughly wet and
shivering, and I detected great strain on some of their faces,
for it was a struggle for them to keep their arms outstretched
at shoulder height for so long. Still, respect for the reformatory
strap kept them in the required position, and no doubt they were
quite delighted when each of them managed to secure good humble
positions as scullery maids. As certified delinquents they receive
no wages until their sentences are completed, but they are given
food and lodgings and a somewhat brief (but quite suitable)
uniform.
I even heard some comments that suggested that the girls would be
put to use warming the beds of some of the gentlemen, and there
was even a reference made in passing by one fellow of having a
particularly buxom beauty "polishing his knob." I did not
understand the comment myself, but it evoked much laughter from
the others.
Miss Hunt advised me that my fears that they were escaping from
the discipline of the reformatory were unfounded. Each of the
gentlemen who were so gracious as to give one of these wretches a
position had agreed to subject their charges to strict discipline
-- a discipline administered by the gentlemen themselves. That is
not to say that the girls are free of the attentions of the butler
or the housekeeper. How it must have burned these so-called
members of the middle classes, daughters of merchants or lawyers or
doctors to learn that they would soon be on their knees scrubbing
floors or scouring pots and pans, whereas before they arrived at
the reformatory they might even have had a servant or two
themselves to command.
As scullery maids, they will be the lowest in the house under the
supervision of all the other servants. So that no favouritism
could be shown to them, the other servants are told the newest
girl's background and how she would have looked down on them
quite recently.
Your Miss Hunt is most impertinent, for, at this point she moved
to my side and whispered to me, "Any girl confined here could find
herself standing there even if she was a noble lady prior to her
delinquency. Could you imagine how it would feel to find yourself
standing there bare naked, shaved and scrubbed raw just like the
others, so that your charms are visible to the same gentlemen who
might have come courting you but a few days past?"
I had no reply for her for I was quite shocked by her suggestion.
A noble lady a delinquent? Impossible. Yet she was not done.
"Imagine being brought back to the great house, where you visited
from time to time, but this time you make your entrance not to any
great pomp and ceremony, but through the servant's door. There in
the kitchen you will have to be stripped for the butler, with all
the footmen and maids, looking on -- and examined and tested.
These same servants would have turned down your bed, run your bath,
waited on you at table.... And now they stand in judgement over
you as you hop from one foot to the other, bend and stretch, to
show that you are not lame and are fit for work."
"When you are finished scrubbing the pots and pans, you will have
to wait on them at the servants' table all the while knowing that
a single misstep will see you bent over the table to receive the
butler's belt...or perhaps a good switching.
"Perhaps in times past, you commented that your bathwater was too
cool or too hot, or your bed was not property turned down, and, as
a result, some poor maid was made to howl under the butler's belt.
Would the maid so punished show you kindness now, or would she
take any chance to show up your lack of skill, your poor work, so
that it was you who would now howl?"
I could take no more of her impertinence, and I was quite overcome
with strange emotions that left me quite beside myself, so I fled
from that place. Such was the distress that I felt, I fear I did
not take care in the path I chose,and I became quite turned around,
and I found myself in an unfamiliar area of the reformatory.
I never saw the peril of where my flight had taken me, and, too
late, I saw that there were several delinquents throwing out
buckets of dirty water from the launderette to drains on the
ground. They were careless in their duties, more driven for the
need for speed than where they were throwing the water, and, before
I knew what happened, I was soaked to the skin by a deluge of
filthy wash water.
When Miss Hunt found me she broke into mocking laughter, but,
seeing me bedraggled and shivering, she was finally moved to
aid me.
"You will catch your death in those wet clothes," she told me.
"Come with me. and, while you wash yourself, I will have your
garments laundered." Then, without so much as a by your leave,
she took hold of my arm as if I was one of her charges and led
me through the reformatory.
When I tried to pull free of her grip she admonished me most
firmly. "None of that. I'll not have you running wild,
getting into heaven knows what sort of mischief." There and
then I resolved that I would see her dismissed from her post.
I was not one of her delinquents squeaking like a mouse at the
slightest frown from the woman.
She at least had the courtesy to assist me in undressing, and, in
no time at all, I was stripped to the skin, albeit a skin soaked
and shivering. Then I beheld where she had taken me, and I
protested, for this was the shower room where delinquents were
hosed down upon admittance.
"Can I not use the staff facilities?" I asked, for I had no desire
to wash there. Who knew what pestilence some of the guttersnipes
might have left in their wake.
"That is quite impossible," she replied. "Reformatory regulations
are quite clear. Only sworn members of staff are permitted to use
the staff facilities. Why, if I let you shower there, I would be
duty-bound to charge you with trespass and remand you to the
courts."
I silenced my protests, for I had no wish to put her to the test.
I swear, both Miss Grey and Miss Hunt have been imagining me not
as a lady of standing, but as a humble delinquent given into their
charge to tame and discipline.
When Miss Hunt had left me alone, I realised that she had taken all
of my garments with her to be cleaned, and now I was left shivering
in this room where delinquents had their filth washed away. It
occurred to me that if anyone was to come upon me like this, they
might even mistake me for a delinquent.
I shivered at the thought and quickly resolved to wash as quickly
as I could. Only then I discovered there were no leavers or knobs
to work the showers; such operations were obviously controlled
elsewhere. My ire for Miss Hunt grew stronger, and I was left
with no choice but to pursue her. And THEN I discovered that the
door through which I had entered was locked, and I was a prisoner.
Indignation warred with alarm within me, for, pound as I might on
the door, it did not budge, and there was no sign of rescue coming.
I do not know how long I lingered at the door so shamefully nude,
but eventually I became resigned to the fact that I was trapped.
Just as I was on the verge of tears, the door swung open.
I thought I had been rescued, but before I could escape from that
wretched place, I was swept up in a flood of naked female bodies,
driven forward by grim-faced reformatory matrons. There was much
screaming and yelling, and it took me some time to push past the
trash, but, before I could explain my situation, the nozzles
overhead burst into life.
Never in my life have I felt water as cold. And I confess that,
as this torrent of icy water descended upon me, my own shrieks
joined those of the other women.
At length, I battled my way past the delinquents and the water to
reach one of the matrons. I felt certain that once I explained my
situation I would be escorted to safety, but, before I could speak,
the harridan whipped forth a fearsome leather strap and proceeded
to lash my bare, shivering thighs.
I danced away from that wicked strap and tried to tell her that
she was striking a lady and that a grave error had been made, but
nothing I said affected the woman. When I faced her, the fronts
of my thighs were struck, and, when I quickly turned, the backs of
my legs received the strap. I endured lf for as long as I could,
then the pain of the strap drove me back into the freezing water.
We were given stiff brushes and foul smelling soap and commanded to
scrub ourselves. I, of course, demurred, for I was accustomed to
warm, scented water and the gentle hands of my maid -- not brushes
that would not have been out of place in a stable. Any who
hesitated received the attention of the leather, and I was no
exception. For some reason they could not distinguish me from the
delinquents. Granted my natural bearing was somewhat diminished by
the fact that I was bent over, clutching my throbbing thighs, and I
was shivering and shrieking unlady-like language under the water.
Nothing would satisfy them, but for me to take a brush and begin
to scrub. The others finished first, and the matrons agreed among
themselves that I was reluctant, so the rest of the delinquents
were commanded to assist me. They were not gentle as they took
hold of me, and I believe they understood that it was only when
they had scrubbed my lily white flesh a bright pink would they
in turn be allowed out from the cold water.
Never had I felt such shame to have those fiends with their coarse
language and rough hands on my person. The matrons directed that
the soft mounds of my breasts and the crevice between my legs
receive particular attention, and, eager to curry favour, the
delinquents were quick to obey.
When I was finally permitted to leave the shower area, I was a
sorry sight indeed. Yet this misadventure was not yet over.
With some horror, I recognised the area where I had seen the
processing of new delinquents. Looking up I could see the
mirrored glass that covered the viewing gallery, and I called
out again for aid, but to no avail.
"Do you think you're the first lady's maid we've seen who thinks
to evade her due by aping her betters?" one of the matrons snarled
at me when I once again tried to explain who I was.
Knowing what was to come next, I struggled mightily, much to the
amusement of the other delinquents and the consternation of the
matrons. In the end, two of them took hold of my arms and forced
me to my knees while a third took the shears to my head.
I began to weep then, as I saw my lovely golden locks begin to fall
around me. My beautiful hair that my maid brushed every morning
and evening was cut from my head with no care at all. The only
mercy was that it was quick, for the matron wielding the shears
cared more for speed than precision.
At this stage, I was quite beside myself, for my thighs were
throbbing, and all that remained of my hair was stubble, but,
after my earlier efforts to explain myself the matrons were
taking no chances. I was flung on my back and my arms pinned,
then they took hold of my ankles and drew them apart and back,
so that my toes were above my shoulders. It resembled the
position some nannies use when diapering a baby. In any event,
it left my intimacies fully exposed to the razor.
I hardly dared breathe as they did their work, for fear that the
razor might nick me. All my tears were ignored, and, when they
were done, they kept me in position a moment longer, long enough
to deliver a quick volley of slaps to my inner thighs. Then,
shivering and utterly dejected, I was ordered to take position
against one of the walls with my legs apart and my hands atop my
denuded scalp.
All the fight had gone out of me at this stage, and, sobbing, I
scampered barefoot across the slick tiles of the floor to take
up the proper position. The thought that I was in full view of
whomever was present in the viewing gallery had me keeping my
eyes on the floor. All I could hope was that no one there would
recognise me.
When all the delinquents were shaved and lined up beside me, the
matrons addressed us as a group. "Rebellion will not be tolerated
here," they said with quiet menace. Only an hour before any one of
those women would have given me a respectful curtsy, but now they
regarded me as if I were just another reprobate sent to them to
suffer under the lash as I learned obedience and endured hard
labour.
"As one of your number has chosen to make a show of herself, she
will have pride of place at Justice Night tonight." To my horror,
I realised she was speaking of me. I had wanted to discover what
this Justice Night was, but I feared at that moment I might not
like having my curiosity satisfied.
After what seemed an eternity, I was given my reformatory dress.
My nose wrinkled at its smell, and the feel of the rough cloth
was quite revolting...to say nothing of how little of my body it
covered. It was all well and good for delinquents to be paraded
about so, but I was a lady. As we were marched into the
reformatory halls, I caught sight of my reflection in a mirror.
Barefoot, limping from the strap with my face stained with tears
and my hair ravaged and ruined, I looked no different that any of
the women by my side. Like them I had a shocked and fearful
expression on my face.
I was put to scrubbing floors with others, and any hint that I
needed to rest, any plea on my part that I was not a delinquent
resulted in punishment. Despite how my back ached, my bare knees
numb from the hard stone, and my arms sore, I resolved to remain
silent, for surely someone who knew me would arrive soon, and I
would be rescued from this dreadful predicament.
When I was released from my labours, I was dirty and sweating and
utterly miserable, but little did I know that it was but the advent
to my true trial. I was taken to what might have resembled a
theatre with tiered seats overlooking a stage upon were fixed the
most curious of benches.
They resembled saw-horses, but with worn, padded leathers covering
the horizontal beams, and I was able to spy leather straps designed
to hold a person in place located at various points on the frame.
I froze at the sight, for I felt a terrible foreboding as I beheld
those frames. But I had been marked as a troublemaker, and there
were three matrons escorting me. I was propelled up onto the
stage and over to one of the benches.
I had little time to observe the thing, for they were pulling my
shift from me, but to my eye a portion of the worn leather looked
wet, as if some sort of fluid had been but recently rubbed into it.
I shrieked at the loss of my shift. The thing was coarse and stank
to high heaven, but without it I was bare to the world. The
matrons were having no further protest, and I was dragged to the
bench and made to straddle it, before my wrists and ankles were
buckled in place to the four legs. As a final indignity some sort
of leather bit was produced, and I could see some fluid dripping
from it. It was forced into my mouth before being tied in place.
Oh, the taste, no words of mine can do justice to the foulness of
the bit as it pressed down on my tongue and pulled the sides of
my mouth back into a parody of a grin. It stank of old leather,
carbolic soap, dried spittle, and some other pungent foulness that
I knew not what.
I was not left alone for long, but as other delinquents were
brought out and secured in place, I noted that the leather,
cold at first, was growing warm beneath me as it soaked in the
heat from my body. With my torso pressed down on the frame by
my bonds, I could feel that strange wetness that I had observed
earlier. It coated the area between my legs, and, as the minutes
passed, I felt the beginnings of a strange tingling.
It was then in an effort to scratch this strange, developing itch
that I discovered that, while my bonds kept me in place, I could
push my body ever so slightly backwards and forwards. This
unfortunately rubbed whatever fluid there was deeper. Behind my
bit, I gasped. Straddling the frame as I was, my most private
parts were in contact with the leather, and, when I shifted, they
rubbed against the leather in a most distracting way.
In no time at all, other delinquents filled the frames to my right
and left. My position left me staring at the ground, so my view
of the gallery was limited, but my ears could detect the chatter
of gathering guests who had come to witness Justice Night.
"Well, look at my little Ginny."
I nearly wept when I saw Maxine Grey striding down the stage
toward me. Despite the bit distorting my face and the loss
of my hair she recognised me. Surely I would now be released.
"Whatever have you done to earn yourself a place at Justice Night?"
She saw my bit and did not wait for the answer that I could not
give. "You look most fetching," she told me as she slowly circled
my punishment frame.
When she had completed her inspection, she returned and hunkered
down before me so that her face was almost brushing against my own.
"And you have your reformatory bridle as well. How nice. Are you
enjoying the taste?"
I could only shake my head in a negative. I feared that I would
never get that terrible taste from my mouth.
"We coat them with soap, and each delinquent who has worn it before
adds her own saliva to the mix, and then they are left to soak in
the piss buckets to add flavouring. It is the invention of a
friend of mine, a most ingenious fellow by the name of Doe. He
calls it 'Delinquent Tea.'"
I felt the urge to throw up and only overcame it with great effort.
The piss buckets! How could they do this to me, force me to suck
on this old leather worn by how many delinquents before me? How
many guttersnipes had voided into the piss bucket before this
bridle had been deemed sufficiently saturated with their urine
to be ready to find a home in my mouth?
I strove to speak at this point, but all that emerged past my bit
was "Huuu nnnne."
"Do you wish to be released?" she asked slowly with a mischievous
smile. As she spoke I felt her fingers brush against the top of
my spine, and then slowly she moved down the side of the punishment
frame, drawing the tips of her fingers down the length of my
backbone over my naked flesh.
"Yuuuu," I managed to utter as I shook my head up and down as much
as my bondage would allow.
I felt her fingers begin to slowly move over the ripe mounds of my
bottom cheeks, and I flinched when she began to trace her nails
along the regions of my thighs that had received the strap. "Was
my little Ginny a naughty girl? Did she squirm under the strap?
Your stripes look good enough to eat."
"Muuuu," I cried into the bit. Why would the woman not release
me? She knew that, appearance aside, I was no delinquent.
"You want to be released," she stated as she resumed her position
in front of me. She reached out with the same hand that had traced
down my back, and she caressed my face most tenderly. "In that we
have a problem. You see it is within my authority to order a girl
ONTO the punishment frame, but only the reformatory master may
order her released before she receives her due."
I nearly bit through my gag in frustration. Why then was she not
seeking you out? She explained. "Master Cooper is there in the
audience, but he is not alone. With him are Lord Winter, Judge
Blake, Sir Anthony Homes, and Lord Denner, to name but a few."
She smiled at me and nodded slowly as she gauged my reaction.
"I see you know them."
I could not imagine this day being any worse than to be seen in
such a state by such worthy gentlemen. I was ruined, for, by
tomorrow, what had occurred would be the talk of all of polite
society. I would never be able to show my face at any house or
ball or gala of note.
"At present all they are seeing is one more set of pale, heaving
buttocks, twitching and clenching in eager anticipation for what
is to come. A particularly fine bottom, but no different than the
others to either side. Now you enjoy the soft, warm blanket of
anonymity. Even when the strap turns your lovely soft flesh
scarlet, you will be free to heave and scream and writhe to your
heart's desire, for such behaviour is quite common. And then, when
they have retired for the evening, you can be freed, and be on your
way, with none the wiser to your little adventure. A few weeks and
your hair will be all grown back.
"Or, if you wish, I can go to Master Cooper and tell him that Lady
Virginia Mainwaring chose to strip off all of her clothes and
parade around as bare as the day she was born in the delinquent
showers, and a terrible error was made. Then I will tell him that
here you are strapped and secured to Horse #4. At this point I am
sure that all eyes will turn in your direction, for how can I tell
Master Cooper without them hearing? They will see you in all your
glory, strapped down and secured."
"I am sure they will marvel at your most interesting hair cut and
how your ripe breasts are crushed into the flogging horse, but I
would imagine most attention will focus on how well-shaved you are.
They can see everything, not just your bottom, but the puckered
little blow hole and your lovely pouting lips."
Tears began to fill my eyes as I imagined all the great men of
significance seeing me like this.
"So what is it to be -- you squirm under the strap, but then slip
anonymously away, or do I tell everyone here who you are?"
Never had I been more torn, but there was really only one decision
that I could make.
"The strap?" she asked and slowly, reluctantly, I nodded my assent.
"That's my good little Ginny," she beamed at me.
Then most shocking, she went down on one knee so that I actually
felt her nose brush against my own. With tender fingers, she
cupped my chin while stroking my cheek, and, as I stared into her
eyes I felt a strange calm descend upon me.
"I happened upon your belongings," she told me. "I will give the
whip master the gold piece I found there to do a thorough job with
you. If he were to be overly lenient with your bottom, questions
might be asked, but no one will suspect that such a comprehensive
thrashing would ever be inflicted on a lady."
At the sight of my eyes widening, she smiled fondly at me. "Little
Ginny's secret will be safe." Something on my expression must have
alerted her. "Was there more than one gold piece in your purse?"
I could only nod, and she shook her head sadly as she climbed back
to her feet and circled around me. "There are so many thieves in
this place. Nothing is safe, not even your virtue." As she spoke,
I felt fingers brush once more against my bottom and then move to
that area between my legs.
"Lovely and moist," she whispered, and my teeth clamped into the
leather of the bit as her fingers probed me. I could offer no
resistance as her fingers slid between the wet lips of my sex.
"And, of course, the whip master is entitled to a tip for a job
well done. We call it 'tipping the whip,' when the delinquent so
honoured can show her respect to the man who chastised her bottom
as the witnesses look on."
I did not understand, but, as they say, ignorance is bliss, and my
bliss was short-lived. "If you are so honoured, he will remove
your gag and...well, don't worry...just take it in your mouth and
give it a little suck, and it will be over soon. As long as you
keep silent -- and swallow it all -- no one will even know it's
you."
She straightened, then stopped as if something had just occurred to
her. "I forgot to mention, there is a rumour that, before each
justice night Horse #4 is rubbed down with a little substance
that...well, I will leave it for you to discover for yourself the
effect. Have fun."
And with that, she was gone.
I could hardly credit it. I had been offered a chance to avoid the
reformatory strap that I feared would soon make itself known to me.
Yet, of my own will, I had agreed to remained secured with my legs
spread wide so that everyone could see my exposed and shaved sex
glistening with fear and excitement. As my heart began to pound
in my breast. I shifted slightly again, and my bottom cheeks
twitched as I felt the wet leather rub against my engorged bud.
At the sound of the first delinquent receiving her punishment, I
shuddered in fear and anticipation. How loud the strap sounded
when it connected with the girl. I could hear ohs and ahs from
the crowd, and some rake shouted out encouragement with a cry of
"Work that strap oil into her."
One by one I heard those to my right receive the attention of the
strap, and at each blow I felt my bottom cheeks clench in sympathy.
Soon I would suffer as they were suffering, and regretfully I did
not have long to wait.
I thought I would pull free of my bonds such was the intensity of
the first blow, but the leather bindings held fast. Scarcely had
I caught my breath, when the next blow came, and then the third.
I could not stand to think of any man seeing me like this, but
there was a whole gallery of them, besides the one Maxine had
described as the "whip master." This close to my person, every
nook and cranny of my body was laid bare to him. I could only
keep my eyes squeezed shut as my jaws clamped painfully around the
bit. All that mattered was the dreadful burning agony that was
being written across my bottom. I had thought that in the shower
and during my shearing I had taken the measure of the strap, but
how foolish I was.
Yet, as my ordeal went on, I became aware of another sensation.
With each blow my body jerked forward, and the motion caused the
leather to rub against my lady bud. Perhaps it was improper, but
each shift of my body evoked a tingling between my legs, and, as
the fire grew in my bottom, an equally intense sensation grew in
my...elsewhere. Any distraction was welcome, and soon I was
jerking back and forward as far as my bonds would allow, so that
the leather would grind harder against my private places.
"Look at her blow hole," one witness exclaimed.
"She means to ride the horse," another called out.
"See how she straddles the horse, shameless as a common whore," a
third said.
I cared little, for the heat between my legs was the only relief I
felt from the far harsher heat in my rear. With each stroke of the
strap I came closer and closer to release and then...oh, how my
body jerked and writhed on the punishment horse as a wave of
pleasure more intense that any I had ever known rushed though my
blood. I hardly felt the last few strokes of the strap, so taken
was I with the surging throbbing sensations that emanated from
between my legs.
Then the whip master was moving on to the next delinquent, and I
was left to lie, soaked with sweat, in a pool of my own womanly
emissions as my bottom throbbed and ached.
When the last girl received her thrashing I dared to hope that this
dreadful night was done, and soon I would be on my way home. Alas,
it was not to be. The whip master surrendered his strap and
strolled past us so that he could look at each delinquent's face.
Up and down the line he went, and I breathed a sigh of relief when
he passed me by, though I will confess I felt a pang of jealousy at
the thought that some other woman was considered more worthy than
I. Then he returned, and I began to whimper as he reached behind
me to undo my bridle.
I had longed to have the dreadful thing removed, both so I could be
rid of the taste and so that I could regain the use of my tongue.
But at that moment, were my opinion sought, I would have happily
remained bridled.
I opened my mouth to plead, and, misjudging the gesture for
eagerness, he began to open his breeches with unseemly haste.
Then I recalled what Maxine had said. Any protest would draw
attention to my condition, and my poor tender bottom had suffered
so much already so that my identity would remain a secret. Left
with no choice, I parted my lips and accepted his member into my
mouth.
I felt rough hands on the back of my head, guiding me forward as
best I could be managed with my limbs still restrained. He filled
me to bursting, and, as his ardour grew, I feared that my jaws
would be split apart from the strain of containing the expanding
member.
"Come on, your ladyship, get to it."
A shiver of fear ran up my spine. Did he know who I was? Surely
not, for what man like him would dare to take such liberties with
a lady. Then I remembered I had heard men sometimes refer to a
woman as 'your ladyship' when they deemed her to be acting above
her station.
So I began to lick and caress his member with my tongue, and I soon
felt it begin to pulse with a life of its own. The whip master
sighed, and his member shuddered as he spent his seed. All I can
say is, as salty as it was, it was better than the taste of that
dreadful bridle. So I swallowed every drop without complaint,
and, when he began to withdraw, I made sure to lick the tip so
that no stray drops would fall to the ground.
Such was my dedication that he began to stiffen again, and I
thought that he might demand a second tip. But he was not so
greedy, and, having received his reward, he departed until the
next Justice Night, when he would once again be called to thrash
the wickedness out of the delinquents.
Maxine was true to her word, and, when the business of the night
was done, and the witnesses had taken their leave, she saw me
released and my garments returned to me. I could not bear the feel
of my underthings against my bottom, and so it was that I discarded
corset and chemise and wore only my dress and boots, with a bonnet
to cover my naked scalp. For the whole of the journey back home, I
was forced to kneel on the floor of the carriage, for I could bear
no weight on my thrashed bottom.
That night I was forced to sleep naked and face down on my bed with
no covering or blanket. My only comfort was that Maxine returned
with me, and, as I lay weeping on my bed, she rubbed the most
soothing of cold healing creams on my bottom, while stroking the
sides of my breasts and murmuring soft gentle reassurance into my
ear.
Never will I forget the humiliation of being forced to bathe and
scrub with the delinquents or, worse, the shame I felt as the
matrons sheared me. Worst of all was the way my denuded nether
regions were left for all to see on that punishment horse or how
the strap left me sobbing and weeping into that foul bit. Nor can
I forget the feel of that man's member in my mouth thrusting, and
then filling my throat and stomach with his seed. Therefore, I must
advise you that no matter how Maxine's fingers brought a smile to
my face as she stroked and teased and rubbed I do not believe that
I will be returning to your establishment.
I remain,
Lady Virginia.
******************************
Submitted November 05, 2019 at 08:07PM by searchem https://ift.tt/2NMLf2o
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