A Whipping – Part II

(Continued from A Whipping)

The Punisher regarded her coolly, hiding any feelings behind an implacable mask. He had never wavered in his responsibilities or shirked his duty though the things he had been offered in this room would send a priest pounding for entry at the doors of Hell. He was looking beyond the woman on her knees before him until, deciding, he pushed away from the bench and strode purposefully toward the steps; not pausing as he took one, then another up toward the courtyard.

“Noooo Roger, please!” she bawled and sprawled prostrate on the cold floor crushing her silken beret against the stone. “I’ll die Roger! I will die up there in the courtyard…” She wished suddenly that she wasn’t as strong a woman so she could swoon like some stricken damsel and impress him with her desperation. It wasn’t to be, though. All she could do was weep openly on the stone floor and beg.

She heard the door’s heavy bolt slide definitively closed. Then the cross beam fell securing it. She snuffled and fell silent lifting on an elbow. Roger appeared back down the staircase and crossed to her, reaching down to offer a hand. “Come, Ellie, get up…”

“But Roger…” she took his hand.

“We won’t be going up into the courtyard. And no one will be coming down.”

She held onto his hand but couldn’t rise, slipping down onto her haunches-a hollow husk, completely drained by the cold fear that had filled her totally.

“But what…what will happen?”

“I can’t let you off Ellie. Can’t do it.”

“No! No! You shouldn’t. As I said-I fully expect to…

“I will cane you right here and now.”

“Oh Roger, never will anyone so happily accept a caning as I will today.”

“Best save your gratitude. This will be…more than last time.”

“Yes Roger, I understand. What must I do?”

“Go. Behind the screen”, he pointed to the standing divider in the corner.  “Disrobe to give me access to your bottom. Bare from waist down…cover the rest as you will.”

“Yes, Roger”, she gasped, hurrying lest he change his mind.

She quickly doffed the beret and the veil hanging them on a hook. The dress came off simply enough and she at least had the good sense not to have worn a corset. She pulled at her slip, then her knickers. It was endless! Which is why the serving class was not allowed underclothes when they worked. Their chastisements were so regular that the time expended undressing and dressing again would be too great.

Bare on the bottom, she rubbed her hands along her thighs and backside feeling strangely chilled. Since Olivia, her topography had changed a bit and she suddenly wondered what he would think. It was vain, she knew, given all the women he has seen in this room. She thought of taking her top off over her head but decided to leave it-not wanting to seem too wanton. She doubted that Roger expected to see her walking nude from behind the screen. So, with a deep breath, she stepped from behind the barrier.

Roger was a man of discipline in more ways than one. He locked eyes with Eleanor as she stepped toward him, having no need-or apparently desire-to see what was below her waist. Her heart swelled at his gallantry.

“This way Missus”, he said, being more comfortable in the formality of his office for the time being. She took his hand and allowed herself to be led to the bench. He showed her how to kneel on the platform which placed her legs a little wider than her shoulders and helped her to bend forward across the bench.

“Would you prefer to be bound, Missus?”

She feared that the pain might make her a coward. “The legs, yes. And across the back. Leave my hands free if you would.”

“As you will”, he said formally.

She was conscious of him behind her affixing the straps around her thighs. She could feel his warm breath on her bare bottom as he reached between her legs for the buckles. The thick belt cinched her waist to the bench and she was set.  Once bared and bound she had naught to do but wait. Her insides roiled as she lay her cheek on the leather padding. Her last caning had been a simple ‘bend over and lift your skirts’ affair; almost a lark between old friends. This was more like…

(Continuing…)

5 responses to “A Whipping – Part II

  1. Pingback: A Whipping – Finale | Hot Bottoms

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