DOMestic Bdsm and Female Domination

The staff member on the desk searched through her data and was
soon joined by the officer with the clipboard. There had
obviously been a mistake... but where? It took several minutes
to resolve: It would seem that there had been a mix up with the
numbers on the shirts and the woman had received a beating that
had been ordered for another female sitting in the room.

The attitude of the staff was simple: She still had her visit to
the punishment room to complete as whatever had happened in
error, she had yet to receive the punishment that was scheduled
for her. Glancing nervously at the posters on the wall that
prohibited any questioning of authority the woman pleaded to be
let off as she had already been severely beaten and clutched her
still throbbing buttocks in the hope of eliciting sympathy.

Just then Chief Wardress Rathbone happened to walk in having
obviously overheard the pleading. Her comments were as impassive
as her face as she agreed fully with the decision by her staff.
She took the clipboard from the officer and consulted the
sentence that had been decided.

"Add four strokes for questioning authority" she muttered. "And
remember that no allowance is to be made for any existing
marking from any earlier beating. She obviously has much to
learn about the way we do things here. She seems all too ready
to blame officers for what seems to be a genuine error on
someone's part. I think we should take a couple of these other
prisoners along with her so that they can see how she is dealt
with and spread the word that we do not tolerate any nonsense in
this establishment."

She quickly pointed out a girl prisoner of around 20 years and
Wendell as witnesses.

The officer with the clipboard ordered the now shaking female
and the two witnesses to follow her, leading them down the
ominous stone stairs into what had been the holding cells. Each
had been extended and was now a punishment room. Each was
numbered as it would seem that the equipment within varied to
accommodate whatever punishment had been decreed. The original
doors were still in place but could now be opened and closed
from the inside. It was left open as the officer indicated to
the prisoner witnesses that they were to stand with their backs
to the far wall and facing a padded wooden horse that the victim
would have to mount.

The temperature in the room was chilling and did nothing to stop
the prisoner shaking. There was a strong smell of toilets. The
walls were plain brickwork and painted white with a stone floor
and high ceiling illuminated only by a small window set high in
one wall. When the officer flicked some light switches the area
of the horse was brightly illuminated as were the racks of
straps, canes and other devices on the walls.

"For the benefit of you two" said the wardress, "I will explain
the system in here. First the prisoner will strip stark naked
then mount the horse. I will secure her to the device with
Velcro straps around her arms and legs and finally a thick
leather belt will be pulled over the small of her back that will
present her buttocks and thighs for punishment."

"Right girl, strip off and mount as you did earlier."

The woman now knew better than to argue or delay. She quickly
slipped off the vest, panties and sandals and climbed up on to
the horse. This consisted of a leather covered sloping support
for her body that forced her buttocks high at one end and her
head lower at the other. Either side and away from the body were
padded wooden boards to support her arms and legs. This, with
the legs in particular, forced her thighs and knees to be spread
indecently wide so that her intimate areas were fully displayed.

Even though she was unshaved, her genitalia and anus were fully
exposed and it was a measure of the woman's fear of what was to
come that this did not seem to concern her. The savage marks of
her previous beating were even more apparent and reached down to
the top few inches of her plump thighs. Vertically down across
the weals were the indentations caused by the seating in the
waiting room. Finally the strap went over the small of her back
and forced the buttocks even higher.

Neither witness dared comment, but they were both puzzled by a
stainless steel plate that was fitted to the horse behind the
woman's crotch. It led down into a funnel device that pointed
down to a stainless steel bucket on the stone floor.

Noticing their interest the wardress explained that it was a new
idea so that prisoners who were unable to control their bladders
when awaiting or during punishment would minimise the
unpleasantness for the staff assigned to be there.

Wendell immediately realised that this had been the reason for
the insistence on them drinking a pint of water when they first
arrived and accounted for the smell that lingered in the room.

The wardress then took a well worn soft leather ball gag that
had been steeped in a jar of disinfectant and ordered the victim
to open wide, forcing the soggy smelly ball into her mouth and
securing it behind her head.

"Believe me, when you two have been through this, or when you
think back to your other beatings in the system, you will
appreciate being totally unable to move or make the sort of
inappropriate comments during the punishment that would earn you
extra strokes. The strapping and gagging is something of a
benefit."

Without any more explaining she picked up a container from the
nearby table and lifted out a swab held in a pair of plastic
forceps. The smell of strong antiseptic hit their senses. She
carefully swabbed a generous amount of the cold liquid all
around the inflamed buttocks, thighs and anal cleft. It took a
few seconds for the coolness to wear off and the astringent
component to kick in resulting in considerable struggling
against the straps and much shouting into the gag.

She then picked up the clipboard and standing in full view of
the victim, read out her sentence for the first time.

"Your owners have complained that you have been far too casual
about your work for them in the last week and on many occasions
have failed to accord them the respect that is required. They
believe that you need a good beating to bring you back in line.
Their recommendation is for 12 strokes of the medium cane across
your buttocks and upper thighs. This has been approved and the
Chief Wardress has increased it by four strokes for your earlier
dissent. The cane will be administered by Mrs Collins whom I
will call in just one moment. This is your opportunity to empty
your bladder without attracting any penalty, I advise you to
take it."

The wretched woman knew that this was no idle threat. There was
a silent pause then she released control and the two witnesses
saw how efficiently the new device collected the flow. When the
somewhat noisy process stopped and just a thin patch of steam
came from the stainless steel the wardress picked up the 'phone.

"Mrs Collins? Your next punishment is ready when you are Ma'am.
She has been told the sentence, the penalties for her dissent
and swabbed down. We have two prisoners present who have been
detailed to watch by the Chief Wardress." The wardress then took
up a position near the door.

It took several long minutes for Mrs Collins to arrive, during
which the room was in total silence apart from the muffled sobs
of the prisoner. As she entered the room the wardress snapped to
attention rapidly followed by Wendell and the girl witness.

Mrs Collins was a short heavily built woman in her early
forties. She had short fair hair and was dressed in a uniform
skirt with a short sleeved blouse open at the neck. She was one
of the new breed of volunteer ladies and was normally employed
as a security guard in a local departmental store. Her
satisfaction and enjoyment with her new part time job was not
displayed on her severe looking face. Instead, a look of boredom
mixed with irritation was the only clue as to her emotions.

She clicked her way around the horse in her uniform knee boots
carefully observing the woman from all directions then running
her finger tips over the weals from the earlier infliction.
Using both hands, she pulled the cheeks apart to check how much
the strapping had penetrated the anal cleft noting the thin red
line caused by the searing ridge before taking up a position
facing the woman's head.

She then took down an electric probe from the wall rack,
adjusted the setting on the handle and reached under the woman
to lift her left hanging breast with the tip against the nipple.
She had just explained to the witnesses that this was to assess
if the prisoner was fully secured and gagged when she pressed
the discharge button. A loud muffled yelp was heard through the
gag and all of her arms and legs flexed against their securing
straps.

She then repeated the shock to her right breast and finally by
pressing the tip just inside her exposed anus and pressing the
discharge satisfied herself that the woman was indeed secured.

"Right then girl, you have twelve strokes to take plus four more
for your continued stupidity and refusal to obey the rules. The
fact that there has been a minor slip up with your earlier
punishment is no concern of mine and I will be taking no account
of your somewhat tender backside. I intend that you will feel
each of my strokes to the full. You two witnesses should pay
close attention as you are both due for punishment today and may
well be meeting me later."

She then unbuttoned her uniform shirt and removed it leaving her
heavy white support bra exposed. The shirt, with its damp
underarms visible, was hung on a convenient hook on the wall.
She nodded to the wardress who closed and locked the heavy door
which was a further indication of the total inevitability of
what was to happen.

She went to the rack of canes and selected a couple of long
acrylic ones with moulded handles muttering to the wardress that
she found them more pliable and less likely to damage the skin
than a bamboo version. She practised swishing both and replaced
one on the rack holding the selected one for the wardress to
disinfect with the swab that had previously been wiped over the
target area.

She then moved to the rear of the victim and swished the cane a
few times to further enhance her feeling of total vulnerability.
Then, with a few gentle taps on the target part of the upper
buttocks, the cane was raised back over her right shoulder and
suddenly brought whistling down to impact on the already sore
flesh.

As the second stroke was applied, the first weal was already
visible against the already reddened skin. Over and over again
the plastic rod was brought down to form another line the sum of
which moved inexorably down the plump buttocks towards her
thighs.

There was no sound from the woman, she had decided on the
futility of protest and simply lay there absorbing the pain that
had been allotted to her by the system. The final two strokes
were laid across the tops of her parted thighs and came close to
marking her most intimate area.

Both witnesses were unmoved by the suffering they were observing
just feet in front of them. They knew that it would be them
strapped down later in the day and should they express the
slightest sympathy or objection to this prisoner's treatment,
they would soon be told to change places with her.

Mrs Collins closely examined the now wealed buttocks. She said
that she intended to lay the four penalty strokes across the
thighs, but as they were well apart this wouldn't be possible.
Instead she would lay four strokes across each tightened thigh
in turn so that the female would not feel that she had been let
off in any way.

She carefully took aim on the left thigh and delivered four
rapid strokes just below the earlier pair at the overhang of the
buttock. She then delivered four to the other side just as
swiftly.

Without a break she then announced that the punishment was over
and that the victim was to be allowed a five minute recovery
before being un-gagged and unstrapped and the two witnesses were
then to make their own way back to the waiting area.

With a brief "Carry on!" to the wardress who was unlocking the
door, she departed.

Wendell was already seated in the waiting area when the woman
reappeared and had to announce her offence and sentence between
sobs and sniffles. The duty staff member gave her a clutch of
tissues and nodded towards the waiting bench which she sat on
with even more exclamations of distress. She was directly
opposite Wendell but still had to spread her legs displaying her
panty crotch to him. He could only speculate how much extra pain
would be caused by the position of having her knees higher than
her bottom with all the weight on that area.

It would be nice to think that this was the end of this day of
suffering for the woman, but as Wendell was to learn when he had
a chance meeting with the woman some days later, it most
certainly was not.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The woman had told him that, dressed in her ridiculous
schoolgirl uniform, she had made her uncertain way back to her
owner's house on the 'bus clutching the official looking
envelope with her "Report Sheet" inside. She had no intention of
sitting down even if that had been allowed.

Her owners were a couple in their sixties who had gone to
considerable lengths to arrange for "Jennifer" as they called
her to be assigned to them. Outwardly they appeared to be your
average concerned and caring couple but as "Jennifer" knew only
too well, the reality of her position was markedly different.
They had both lived abroad and worked for the British Government
in several distant places. They had been used to servants and
had no intention of giving that life style up now they were
retired. The ability to use and abuse a servant was something
that they had always hoped for but never fully achieved until
now.

Jennifer knocked on the rear door and it was opened immediately
by "Madam". She was shorter than the average with her swept back
gray hair in a bun. She wore half rimmed glasses which conveyed
the impression that she might be a school mistress or something
similar. Her figure was still slim with matronly breasts
obscured by a dark blue dress. Underneath she preferred, as
Jennifer knew too well, supporting underwear and stockings from
a previous generation.

"Well, young lady, you certainly took your time," Madam snapped.
"You will make and serve tea to Mr Henderson and myself in the
sitting room... and be quick about it!"

There was no mention of how she had been treated at the "Local",
'why should there be', thought the woman. They had sent her to
be beaten and that was that.

Jennifer quickly produced tea and biscuits for two on a silver
salver next to an envelope containing her report from the
'Local', then walked into the sitting room to find the
Hendersons sitting on a long sofa as she knew they would be. She
put the salver down in front of them, backed away, bobbed a
curtsy and said:- "Tea is served Madam... Sir."

Mr Henderson eyed her up and down in his usual manner. He was
tall and well built with grey hair and a weather-beaten face.
"Ah yes Jennifer... I had forgotten... you were sent for a
beating today in an attempt to sharpen up your attitude to work
in this house were you not? I trust they dealt with you as we
requested. Hand me your report girl and it had better be
complimentary."

Nervously Jennifer handed him the envelope with another curtsy
before walking backwards to her original position. He opened it
and pulled out two sheets handing the second to his wife. He
slowly read the report with his eyebrows indicating surprise at
some of the comments.

"I really can't believe that even you would question the staff
Jennifer. I see that you received an extra four strokes for
it... I'm surprised that it wasn't more. And all because they
made a simple mistake with the first punishment."

Jennifer knew that she had to agree and go along with the man's
utterly unfair comments. She simply looked at the floor and
muttered "Sorry Sir."

"Well" he continued, "Let's see what all the fuss was about
shall we? Turn around, bend right over and raise your skirt."

She did and waited for some indication of sympathy. She realised
that her bottle green school knickers that Mrs Henderson
insisted she wore covered up most of the buttocks, but surely
the weals across her thighs should be visible under the
suspenders that reached down to hold the black stockings up.

"Mmm... well things look pretty good from here apart from the
bruises across your thigh backs and they can't hurt that much
even though you richly deserved them. Now," turning to his wife,
"What does the other letter tell us?"

Mrs Henderson seemed most excited. "Well dear, they are
expanding the treatments that they have on offer at the Local.
They are training a small number of males in inflicting corporal
punishments so you can ask for your servant to be dealt with by
a male officer should you feel that to be more effective. You
can now send both males and females for 'Genital' punishments
and they have trained up some junior nurse volunteers to give a
daily cover that they hope to extend to weekends eventually.
Routine milkings for the owners of males who find the procedure
unpleasant is now available at all the normal opening times and
they are considering offering female relaxations, as they call
it as well. Now... well... here is something for us... they have
permission to introduce breast punishments from the start of
next month. Apparently the delay is caused by the time it is
taking to train up volunteers. I have often thought that
Jennifer here could benefit from such a punishment."

Mr Henderson looked concerned. "Did you have your breasts
punished when you were inside Jennifer?"

Blushing, Jennifer told them that she had received nine breast
cane strokes on each breast just the once, and had to explain
how three were laid on the upper surface, three on the lower and
three across each nipple.

He snorted in disbelief. "Yours droop so much girl that I fail
to see how they could get the cane to the underside! Let's have
a look at them... strip to the waist!"

Jennifer knew this would happen, sooner or later he would find
some excuse to humiliate or hurt her and all she could do...
dare do... was to obey. She quickly removed her tie then her
shirt exposing the heavy old fashioned bra that she had to wear
above the restrictive white body corset that squeezed her waist
so tight. The bra was soon laying on a table with the other
items and she was at 'the present'.

"There you are," he snarled, "half of the lower surface is
clinging to her chest."

That was indeed true. She was a large girl in that area and
although her breasts were superbly shaped even their owner would
agree to a little sag.

Mrs Henderson stepped forward, gripped both of the large nipples
in a fierce grip with her fingers and lifted the breasts up
high.

"There you are dear... all exposed on the soft underside."

Then she let go suddenly.

Mr Henderson stood up and spent several minutes doing the same
lifting and then groping her breasts as he usually did.

"It would certainly be another way we could keep this girl in
check," he mused. "It will be something that we would like to be
kept informed about so I think we should reply and express
interest my dear."

After that Jennifer was left alone and apart from serving dinner
she was allowed to remain in her room attending to various
sewing tasks.

When it reached nine o'clock and she could hear them watching
one of their favourite shows on TV she permitted herself some
hope that they would forget that this was a Wednesday and that
her maintenance beating was due at 10pm. She really didn't think
she could take any more as her buttocks and thighs were still
sore and throbbing from their earlier treatment. The slightest
touch or even sitting on a soft surface hurt like hell. It would
be a gamble to ignore reporting to them, but she decided to risk
it.

Sure enough, the time came and went and nothing was heard from
them. Following routine she changed into her pyjamas and
prepared for bed ready to spend a restless night of lying on her
front.

At ten thirty precisely the call bell by the side of her bed
rang and her heart sank: she was being summoned. Hoping that she
was required for some simple task she went to the sitting room
but realised from the atmosphere that she was in for it. The TV
was turned off and she was told to stand in front of the sofa,
yet again.

Mrs Henderson started the interrogation in a calm quiet voice
that Jennifer knew only too well presaged something deeply
unpleasant for her and she was frightened, really frightened.

"What day is it Jennifer?" she asked and having received a reply
went on to ask "And what time is it?" Having received the
answers she then coldly asked: "Jennifer, what are you supposed,
no required to do, at exactly 9.45 on a Wednesday night?"

Mumbling and shaking Jennifer responded: "Report to you Madam
with my maintenance strap in my hand ready to pass it to you."

"...and what then?"

"Please Madam, I am to go up to your bedroom, strip completely,
kneel on the left side of your bed on all fours with my knees
wide apart, head touching the duvet and back arched until you or
Mr Henderson arrives to give me the beating."

"...and during the beating?"

"I must remain in position... otherwise penalty strokes will be
awarded Madam."

Mr Henderson interjected: "Well Jennifer, knowing all this you
have seen fit to deliberately flout our rules and
instructions... why is that?"

"Pp.. please Sir, I have been beaten already today... my bottom
is too sore to take any more. Please may I have them on another
night instead... Sir?"

The couple looked at each other in shock and both commented how
insolent she was in deliberately avoiding punishment then trying
to wriggle out of it even more. She was told that the state of
her buttocks was of no concern and if she really wanted to avoid
repeat punishments she should behave better. She was told to
leave the room whilst they discussed her fate which she did,
standing, trembling with fear, in the cold hallway. Eventually
she was called back in to stand in front of them.

"Having given the matter due consideration, we have decided that
your maintenance beatings will be increased from 8 to 16 strokes
for the rest of the month. It is your bad fortune that this is a
month with five Wednesdays. Needless to say, double penalty
points will be awarded for the month as well should you irritate
us on any occasion. It is rather late, but this is a Wednesday
and you will now receive your beating. Go and fetch your strap."

With a curtsy to them both, Jennifer hurried up to her room,
took the wretched implement off its hook and on returning to the
sitting room presented it to Mrs Henderson with yet another
curtsy of submission. She was told to follow the normal
instructions, go to their bedroom and to grip the strap in her
teeth when in position.

It took but seconds for her to strip and mount the bed. She felt
the tightness of her flesh renewing the persistent pain as she
bent into the required position. By twisting her head she could
see herself in the mirror and just how blatantly she was
displayed along with the weals and bruises that the Hendersons
had yet to see.

For one brief moment she allowed herself to believe that they
would take pity on her when they saw how tender she was and not
carry out the punishment, or at least, reduce it to something
with which she could cope. She soon came back to reality and
realised that the marks were more likely to inflame their sadism
rather than reduce it.

There was no clock so she could not tell how long she was
waiting. She knew that one of their tricks was to keep her in
suspense far longer than necessary but not daring to move in
case they suddenly burst in, as they had on more than one
occasion hoping to find her out of position and therefore liable
for penalty strokes.

She found that biting on the strap to retain it in her mouth
soon had her tongue tasting the oil that had been lavishly
anointed by herself. It was making her salivate for some reason
but she dare not remove it even for just one second in case they
came in.

After fifteen minutes of holding the humiliating and difficult
position and dribbling into the strap the door opened and she
heard them walk into the room, closing the door behind them. She
knew that she was theirs to do with as they wished.

Mrs Henderson was the first to speak: "My... my... girl they
really give a good thrashing at the local don't they! You must
be quite sore."

She then slowly dragged her sharp finger nails up and down her
cheeks digging into the weals so that Jennifer flinched.

"Keep still girl, you are in enough trouble without making
things worse for yourself! Do you really want some penalties?"

She then gave half a dozen sharp slaps to both buttocks knowing
that the condition of her target would greatly increase the pain
level. All that Jennifer could do was to bite even harder on the
oily and now wet strap.

"I think that we will start with four strokes from me and then
four from my husband. Normally that would be the end, but of
course you are on an enhanced maintenance beating for tonight
and the next four weeks. Just in case you are expecting any
sympathy let me remind you that any insolent exclamations or
undue movement will most certainly result in penalty strokes as
normal."

Jennifer knew from previous beatings that this was no idle
threat and that her owners would be looking forward to finding
some small fault that would justify even more pain.

Mrs Henderson reached round and gripped the handle of the strap
telling her to release her dental grip which she did. Mrs
Henderson grunted in disgust as she showed her husband the teeth
marks and dribble on the strap. She then stood with feet wide,
raised the strap back over her shoulder and brought it down over
the centre of the waiting buttocks with a dull "thwuck".

It hurt Jennifer even more than she expected but she remained in
position and waited. The next three followed quickly, all to the
same area so that a broad band of flesh felt on fire. She
started sobbing knowing that nothing would stop the assault.

Mr Henderson laid his four on with even greater force, as he
always managed to do. His landed lower down and started to
encroach on the tops of her thighs.

Her buttocks felt as if a red hot iron had been applied to them.
She knew that she had moved during the strokes, how else could
she absorb the pain? Whether that would be deemed sufficient to
need penalties she would no doubt be told.

Just then he ran his hand between her legs cupping her hirsute
vulva and slowly introducing a wriggling finger into her
intimate folds. By now she should be used to the Henderson's
employment of humiliation as well as pain to break her down, but
she would never voluntarily agree to these assaults, she would
only learn to accept them to avoid more of the same.

She well remembered her first few days with them. A couple of
the young men from the next door house popped in on some errand.
They were fired up on emerging hormones and could not help
looking at her large breasts. Rather than telling them to behave
Mrs Henderson just grinned at them and said how good it was that
they were taking an interest in the opposite sex. She then asked
them if they had ever seen a pair of breasts in real life?

Mumbling and blushing they both admitted that they had not.
Unbelievably Mrs Henderson said that perhaps the time had come
to correct that and turning to Jennifer gave a simple command to
strip to the waist. Jennifer, understandably shocked, covered
her breasts protectively with her hands and shook her head.

Mrs Henderson was furious. Telling the young men to wait, she
ordered Jennifer down to the cellar and followed her leaving all
the doors open. This room was in the process of being developed
as a place in which punishments could be inflicted. Taking a
thin cane down from the wall rack she ordered Jennifer to bend
over with legs apart and grasp her ankles.

Jennifer hesitated, but soon complied when Mrs Henderson offered
to call the lads down to watch. She then felt her schoolgirl
skirt raised and her knickers being snatched down to her knees.
Her new owner stood to her side, raised the cane high and
quickly laid on five stinging cuts across the plumpest part of
her nates.

The sound of both the cane and Jennifer's yelps carried upstairs
to the waiting pair who looked at each other with broad grins.
They had, of course heard stories about the way these prisoner
servants were treated but hearing it for themselves was an
unexpected treat.

It was just a couple of minutes before the now dressed girl came
back up the stairs and stood in front of them again. Mrs
Henderson apologised for the delay and explained that this was a
new servant who had much to learn. She then turned to Jennifer
and repeated the order to strip.

Sobbing a little and blushing bright red, she obeyed, just
lingering for a brief second and looking at her owner in the
hope that she might change her mind before reluctantly slipping
off her shirt and large white brassiere. She took up the hands
on head, elbows forced back and legs apart position without
being told. She tried to ignore the throbbing pain from under
her skirt as the young men looked over every part of her
breasts.

"Not the best example of how breasts should look as Jennifer is
rather old and overweight... so hers tend to droop more than
they should. However, they are a good size and the nipples big
and rubbery."

She then ordered her to jump up and down so that they bounced
and slapped against her chest wall. The movement causing some
amusement with her small audience.

"It might be a good idea for you two to come round and get some
practical experience of what a fully developed female looks
like... you know... get to examine her... all over... really
thoroughly. Would you be interested?"

Their enthusiasm for the suggestion was overwhelming.

"Right then, I will arrange it sometime, in the meantime I will
allow you both fifteen seconds each to give them both a real
feel... and don't forget the nipples."

It felt longer to Jennifer. Standing there, frightened to move
or object, she had to brace with her elbows hard back as the two
young thugs cruelly squeezed and pulled with one hand on each
breast. When they had finished, both breasts ached and carried
red marks.

Just a few days prior to the visit to the local Mr Henderson had
complained about Jennifer's weight and said that the time had
come to do something about it: Mrs Henderson had agreed and
remembered back to the incident with the neighbours. She had
noticed how fit they were and had heard from a friend that they
regularly exercised in a large gym that had been built for them
in a building in their garden. She wondered if perhaps they
would take on Jennifer for some really hard physical training so
that she would burn off some calories. In return they could use
her for some more exploring to increase their knowledge of the
female anatomy.

With both her owners in agreement Jennifer was informed and
still awaited the results of the discussion that she knew had
taken place. She could not believe that even the Hendersons
would hand her over like a toy to these two young men. The
thought of being trained by them with physical exercises until
exhaustion was bad enough, but the thought of them having her
strip and be intimately groped and exposed for their education,
was infinitely worse.

The sound of Mrs Henderson slapping her hand with the now warm
strap brought her back to the present day.

"Well girl, eight strokes to go. We could lay them all over your
backside but that seems to be a little too tender, so we will be
incredibly kind and lay them on another part of the body. You
will therefore take them on your inner thighs which seem to be
untouched. Lay on your left side facing away from me and lift
your right leg up high to fully expose the left thigh."

With some difficulty Jennifer did as she was ordered. The soft
white flesh of her plump thigh lay fully exposed. Mrs Henderson
raised the strap and brought it hard down across the leg... high
up near her exposed crotch. She had chosen the site well knowing
just how sensitive the area is to any punishment.

Jennifer's instinctive reaction was to lower her right leg to
protect it, but she managed to keep her limbs well spread. The
next three moved down the thigh three inches at a time towards
the knees until the whole area was red and burning.

On the command "Change" from Mr Henderson, Jennifer turned on
her right side and extended her left leg skywards feeling the
abused flesh tighten. She could now see the careful way he
caressed the strap in his hands before standing back a little
and bringing it down just above the knee.

Knowing where the most sensitive spot was he was keeping the
best 'til last. The three remainders fell quickly leaving both
inner thighs blazing with pain as she was ordered to her feet
and told to wait outside the bedroom door whilst they discussed
whether any penalties were needed.

This was psychology at its worst. She stood on the cold landing
frantically rubbing her legs to ease the pain, dreading the call
to return, but knowing that she would have to obey and allow
whatever the pair had decided, to take place. Eventually her
name was called and trembling with fear she marched in, curtsied
to them both and stood to await their verdict.

They sat side by side on the bed. Mrs Henderson smiled
cynically. "Your acceptance of our authority tonight has been
barely acceptable, but we have decided to let you off any more
strokes. We may need your services later so I want you to kneel
at the foot of the bed and await your next order Jennifer."

It could have been a lot worse. Usually kneeling at the foot of
the bed required her to play some part in the sex that usually
followed her beatings. With luck it would be just tidying up
afterwards when they were asleep. Without luck she would be
expected to join them in the bed and assist in some way as she
tried to forget the pain they had caused her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

For Wendell, his visit to the local continued in its inexorable
way: He had to wait a further ten minutes before a volunteer
wardress in her thirties, tall with lanky short blonde hair and
an angular face walked into the waiting room and called out his
number.

He obediently followed her as she almost marched through the
building. He was well aware that a word from her would increase
his sentence should he show any reluctance or disrespect.

He soon found himself in a punishment cell and was mortified to
find the two young lady trainees who had watched and assisted
with his last milking and humiliation were there to witness this
punishment. As he stood to attention awaiting the next order he
found their immature grins of anticipation to be more than
distasteful.

In no time he was totally naked and lying in position with his
thighs spread and his head well down awaiting the tightening of
the Velcro straps. His painfully sore penis with its retracted
foreskin rested against the cold steel of the urine trough which
he felt almost soothing, but he knew from the formal thrashings
he had received when in the Correctional Centre that this would
be a short lived relief.

The two girls were allowed to assist in fastening the restraints
which they did using all their strength to bind him securely to
the horse. The wardress retrieved the gag from the disinfectant
jar and pushed it into his mouth fastening the straps behind his
head. He had no idea what the liquid was that it had been
steeped in, but it tasted foul and smelt even worse.

Rather than hurry the proceedings the wardress took the time to
show the girls the various canes, straps and paddles that hung
on the racks and described how they were used on the male and
female victims that were brought into this place of discipline.
They seemed to take great delight in flexing and swishing both
the rattan and plastic canes whilst speculating on how painful
they were to receive. They even tried hitting their free hands
with a few implements and emitted frequent exclamations that
indicated they were experiencing the effects for themselves.

"Now boy," the wardress said to Wendell. "This is the time to
relieve your bladder without incurring any penalty strokes. I
strongly advise you to do that."

Just then, the elder of the girls reached between his thighs and
grasped his dangling tender organ between her thumb and fingers
and started to shake it hard which, as well as being painful,
also reminded him that his bladder was indeed full and that he
would have to relieve himself in front of them no matter how
disgusted and humiliated it made him feel.

Even the act of passing water proved to be painful, especially
with the girl gripping the shaft and waiting to direct the flow,
but at least it wouldn't count against him he acknowledged to
himself as he relaxed control and the urine flowed freely into
the stainless steel trough.

The action was greeted by sounds of disgust from the two
witnesses who then asked if they could swab the area to be
punished. It was the younger girl's turn to torment him. She
took the forceps in her hand and swished the swab around the
bowl for some time before bringing it still running to his
buttocks. It was ice cold and smelt more like a commercial or
industrial product than one for sensitive human skin. She
allowed it to run down his buttocks and particularly into his
anal cleft where it stung his anal region savagely.

Having wiped it generously over both buttocks and thighs she
drew it down through the anal cleft and then wiped it around the
exposed tip of his penis rubbing his organ against the steel of
the trough. The skin in that area was already raw, and as she
hoped, the liquid added greatly to his suffering.

Eventually the volunteer wardress picked up her clip board and
read aloud to him: "Your owner has complained about your
frequent requests to be milked, a procedure that she finds
revolting. To discourage this in the future she has asked that
we milk you here, which I note has already been done, and then
inflict a paddling and dose of the cane. I see that we have
approved thirty swats of the small paddle to be followed by
sixteen of the medium cane. The lady scheduled to punish you is
rather busy and has therefore authorised me to lay on the
paddle, she will then come here to lay on the cane."

Wendell lay there fuming at the injustice. He had mentioned
milking just the once and to have him beaten for that one time
was a total injustice... not that he was even in a position to
comment, let alone complain.

She went on: "I have been given permission to allow these girls
to practice with the paddle. I will lay five on each cheek and
then they will do the same. Needless to say, any whacks that I
consider to be too light... will be repeated."

The wardress selected a heavy rubber paddle from the rack. It
had a wooden grip with the oval shaped business end somewhat
larger than a hand. It was over a quarter inch thick and not
very pliable as she demonstrated by flexing it in front of him.
She could just as easily have selected one of the smaller
lighter paddles so her choice demonstrated that Wendell should
not expect the slightest consideration, let alone mercy from the
woman.

Playfully slapping it across the palm of her left hand she told
the girls that she had chosen that particular paddle because she
needed to "tenderise" the whole of the buttock area so that the
relatively minor caning would have the maximum effect. Much as
she would prefer to land the paddle on the same spot every time,
even to giving the whole thirty strokes to the same spot on the
same buttock, she would have to spread them around or risk
displeasing the wardress who would eventually arrive to lay on
the cane. She said that she would give him her ten and then the
girls could try their hands.

His buttocks were only slightly bruised from earlier beatings by
his owner and apart from the vertical indentations from the
seating, they had an almost clean area to work on. This did not
last long.

The wardress laid on five to each side, raising the paddle way
over her shoulder and bringing it down to a slightly different
target each time with a loud "Thwack".

One girl stood behind to observe the marking process and the
other squatted in front of his face, not caring that this would
allow him to see her panty crotch as she was so absorbed in
watching his facial reactions to each impact.

The younger girl then went first. She was of a slight build but
packed a surprising wallop and she put her whole body behind
each stroke of the paddle on the already reddened target. It
took less than a minute to complete her allocation and hand over
the now warmed implement to her friend.

The elder girl stood behind the boy, stroking the palm of her
left hand with the rubber as she surveyed the buttocks deciding
where she needed to hit.

"There doesn't seem to be much colour in his thighs, so will it
be ok if I warm them up a little?" she asked with a grin.

'Warming' was hardly the word. She gave five really hard whacks
to the upper part of each thigh overlapping the lower part of
each buttock cheek. When she finished, her selected area was a
much darker hue than the rest as the bruises started to appear.

His buttock area still felt as if on fire when he heard the
phone being lifted and a brief conversation imparting the
knowledge that he was ready for the cane.

There was a long wait during which the wardress explained the
finer points of how severely the staff laid on the cane in the
local. She said that the unofficial motto was that if you laid
it on hard enough it would be a longer time before a repeat
performance would be necessary.

In practice however, since the decision as to whether another
offence had been committed rested entirely with the owner, this
didn't always hold true. What was true is that the fear and
apprehension displayed by the repeat offender was certainly
increased when he or she had been really effectively thrashed on
the previous visit.

Just then, to Wendell's horror, the door opened and in walked
Mrs Rathbone the Chief Wardress. 'Of all the rotten luck,' he
thought to himself. Any other wardress would be strict, but not
to the extent that he had heard Mrs Rathbone was.

When he saw her selecting a prodder from the rack he knew what
was coming and struggled against his over tight straps to move.
It was futile and he felt the cold touch of the probe lifting up
his scrotum and nestling between his testicles.

"Just a routine check to make sure that you ladies have secured
him properly" she said quietly. Then pressed the discharge
button.

To the captive male it felt as if he had been kicked in the
balls. He strained against his straps and shouted... or at least
tried to shout, into his foul tasting gag.

It took several seconds before he could relax and open his eyes.
Mrs Rathbone stood in front of him towering over his head.

"It is the custom in the actual Correctional Centres that formal
thrashings are carried out with the Officer stripped to the
waist. This emphasises the feminine aspect of the punishment so
the victim learns respect for the female in authority. It also,"
she added with a cold smile to the new girls, "reduces the
ladies body temperature a little as a really good thrashing can
be hard work and that of course induces sweating."

Without any embarrassment she then removed her tie and undid her
shirt slipping it off her back to reveal a white heavy sports
type bra with her breasts surging over the cups. This was
unclipped from the rear with some difficulty and leaning forward
she pulled the stiff wired cups free of her breasts and hung it
with the shirt and tie on a convenient hook.

She was certainly a magnificent sight that even Wendell found
impressive. The light brown breasts stood out well, even without
support, and were capped with large almost black aureoles and
thick black nipples almost half an inch long. She leant forward
until they were almost touching her victim and shook them
slightly.

"Take a good look at them Boy! This is the one time you are
allowed to ogle without it resulting in even more pain!"

She then stood and addressed the girls:

"This will be a formal flogging and it is designed to hurt. If
you have any thoughts that you won't like what you are about to
see, I would advise you to leave now."

They remained motionless and so she closed and locked the door,
signalling the end of all hope for the male and walked over to
the cane rack. She knew what she was looking for and soon found
it. A length of knotted but springy bamboo with a hand grip in
rubber. It was forty inches long and about 3/8th of an inch
thick not counting the knots.

Most of the staff would have chosen a thinner and more flexible
cane, but Chief Wardress Mrs Rathbone knew that her inflictions
had to be that little bit special to impress the staff and the
prisoners with her authority.

This might impress the staff, but would be sheer hell for the
victim.

She squatted down to be level with Wendell's head and held the
cane under his nose. "You will be feeling this in groups of four
strokes, I will allow a couple of minutes for the pain to
subside between each group. My advice is to remember to breathe
and avoid clenching your buttocks as that will only make it feel
worse."

She then stood, and with a glance at the wall clock, raised the
cane over her right shoulder and brought it whirring down to cut
across the buttocks just below the top of the anal cleft. The
next three fell in rapid succession creating a two inch broad
band from the top of the cleft.

As the pain reached Wendell's brain, futile sounds of extreme
anguish could be heard through his gag. Mrs Rathbone pointed out
the different weals that her "special" cane created. Slightly
thicker than normal canes and with the characteristic lumps or
extra swellings from the knots.

She waited for exactly two minutes on the wall clock... then
brought the next four strokes slashing down, just below the
first ones.

"You girls can now appreciate why I checked on his restraints.
Believe me, if he wasn't secured he would probably be running
round the room clutching his backside and begging for leniency.
Feel free to run your finger tips... and nails if you wish, over
the ridges."

This they did, commenting on how hot the weals felt,
particularly the added swellings. Needless to say their nails
were scraped along the ridges whilst watching to see if this
caused the male any extra pain. It did, but he was so totally
maxed out by the cane strokes themselves that there did not
appear to be any extra moans or struggles.

The next four strokes followed and joined up with the first two
searing bands of pain across his buttocks. A period of just two
minutes then elapsed with the room in total silence apart from
Wendell's muffled moans and the creaking of the straps and frame
that supported him.

Before laying on the final four Mrs Rathbone carefully examined
the area available. Rather than lay another band to join the
others she prodded the tip of the cane against the lowest part
of the buttocks and upper thighs that were unmarked.

"It would be a pity to let this soft spot escape the rod," she
mused, "but we had better first re-position the thighs so that I
don't catch the scrotum by mistake."

By winding a handle low down on the left of the frame the
supports on which his lower legs were strapped were brought
closer until they were almost touching. This had the desired
effect of shielding his testes but raised his buttocks,
tightening the skin around the lower area.

Sensing what was to come, the male was now shivering with fear
and his entire body covered in a cold damp sweat.

There were no more words. The rattan cane was raised high over
Mrs Rathbone's sturdy shoulder and brought whirring down across
the vulnerable flesh. Three more strokes quickly followed to
cover a band of just two inches or so of the most sensitive part
of his legs and backside.

The cane was then immediately placed back on the rack and the
Chief Wardress was about to depart when the duty wardress raised
a query. Needless to say, not one of the females was even
looking at the shivering moaning male as their interest had
ceased with the final stroke.

"With respect Ma'am," the young wardress said, "I am trying to
complete my punishment assignments so that I can become fully
authorised to punish these wretches myself. I have noted that
Wendell's owner has kindly ticked the box that would allow us to
use him for staff training and wondered if you would allow me to
lay on one of the punishments that I need to complete. You
could, perhaps, sign me off if I administered it to your
satisfaction."

Mrs Rathbone, struggling to replace her support brassiere picked
up the clip board and examined it and turned to the two young
witnesses:

"Mmmm, you see girls, we have recently included a box for the
owners to tick should they be happy for us to use their
prisoners for a little extra staff training. There have been
comments that owners who ticked it thought that they were simply
agreeing to the actual punishment being used for training rather
than anything extra but that is hardly our concern. In Wendell's
case the box is ticked and we can use him as we wish, should we
choose to do so."

She then asked the wardress what she had in mind. It seemed that
she had yet to lay on a hand punishment and following a brief
glance at the wealed and reddened buttocks in front of them,
laughingly agreed as at least that part of him was still
unmarked.

Wendell could not believe that his agony was not yet over. He
had no idea what a hand punishment entailed, perhaps it was
being slapped by the wardresses hand? Maybe his face? Whatever
the area it would be better than taking any more pain to his
rear.

He soon found himself unstrapped, un-gagged and somewhat
unsteadily, at attention taking great care not to follow his
natural instinct which was to try and rub away some of the pain.
He was still damp with sweat and rather paler in complexion than
normal, but all of these signs were perfectly normal to the two
staff to the extent that no comment was necessary.

Needless to say, the two female visitors had flushed faces and
shining eyes that seemed to indicate their continuing excitement
at his vulnerability and pain.

Mrs Rathbone, now fully dressed briefed the wardress and
explained to the visitors:

"The hand punishment, is really a relic of the old style school
punishments where a strict mistress would keep her charges in
line with a cane. What I want to see is a more penal version of
that punishment. I expect to see five firm strokes of a suitable
cane laid on across the fingers and palms of this boy. He will
take the strokes without any attempt to avoid them. This is in
itself, a good test of his acceptance of the wardresses
authority as he will see everything in front of him and be
obliged demonstrate his acceptance of her authority by not
moving his hand in the least, even though he knows it will hurt
like hell... or should do if she lays them on to pass my level
of satisfaction."

And then turning to the young and very eager wardress:-

"Now... which cane will you select? It will of course be much
lighter than the one I have just used but not as light as say
one of the ones that we will be using when we are approved for
female breast punishments. Anyhow, the assessment starts right
now so off you go!"

With a confident smile the young wardress went over to the rack
of the lighter canes, took down several and practised swishing
them several times before selecting a very flexible plastic rod
about two and a half feet in length and a quarter of an inch in
diameter. She then addressed Wendell:

"Right boy, you will now experience a hand caning from me, not
because you have committed any crime but simply because I need
to demonstrate one to the Chief Wardress here. I intend that it
will hurt, but should you try to avoid any stroke you will still
receive that stroke and a penalty one in addition. Throughout
the punishment you are to watch the tip of the cane wherever it
is and your eyes are to remain open. You may brace yourself when
you see me bringing it down but nothing else. There will be no
rubbing hands during or after the last stroke has been given. I
will accept a little movement after each stroke, but you will
have your hand back in to the correct position within ten
seconds or that stroke will be repeated. Do you have any
questions?"

A forlorn Wendell assured her that he had not.

"Stand with your feet apart, left hand behind your back, right
hand in front and parallel to the floor."

She then used the tip of the cane to lift his hand to the
required level.

"Fingers together and fully outstretched..."

She stood to his right about four feet from his hand to ensure
that the tip would hit the target, raised the cane back over her
right shoulder and brought it whistling down across the fingers
just below the first joint on the index finger.

Wendell was appalled how much it hurt. The pain seemed
instantaneous and he had just got his hand back to the required
level when the second stroke hit just where the fingers join the
palm. He did not need to be told that the wardress was out to
impress.

Strokes three to five landed across the plump palm area, the
last taking in the thumb root.

His whole hand was now an excruciating pad of pain as he
followed instructions and placed it behind his back and offered
the left one for punishment. The two visitors stood just feet
away to his front. Both were still flushed with excitement and
watching every whistling descent of the cane.

Perhaps it was because he was right handed and therefore the
skin on that hand was a little more hardened, or perhaps it was
because the wardress was laying on even harder to the left hand,
but the fingers and left palm felt even more painful as the
strokes fell. By the time the last one had landed the tears were
running down his face much to the visitors amusement.

But at last it was over... or so he thought.

The unsmiling young wardress replaced the cane and came back to
his part of the room clutching an old fashioned wooden school
ruler. Not one of the modern plastic jobs, this had been kept as
some sort of memento and Wendell wondered what for. He was soon
to find out.

"Now Ma'am," the eager young wardress went on, "as you well know
the school mistress of old also had an alternative to the cane.
Cheeky young males could also expect to have their knuckles
rapped and I hope that you don't mind, but I found this ruler in
a junk shop the other day and thought that I would include that
discipline with my hand punishment routine. It wasn't a
punishment that any of them looked forward to but I'm sure that
its use was beneficial to improving overall school behaviour."

Mrs Rathbone was impressed. She inclined her head to indicate
her acceptance of the wardresses views, her purchase of the
implement and its intended use on the boy.

The young wardress again now stood to his right. Ordered him to
extend his hand with the palm down. She then adjusted the height
by tapping it with the heavy wooden ruler and then brought it
down in a sharp flick to crack flat across his knuckles.

It took a few seconds for the pain to hit his brain, during
which time he had noticed the ink stains and scribbled name of
its one time owner on the ruler. He thought that no pain could
exceed that of the cane across his fingers... but he was wrong.
It was a duller more sickening pain but had a new height of
intensity. Without thinking he snatched his hand away and rubbed
the knuckles violently with his other hand.

"Well boy," his tormentor remarked, "that disobedience was very
silly. I appreciate that this must hurt and I was going to go
easy on you, but now you will have to take... without
movement... that stroke repeated to your right knuckles and then
two to your left hand knuckles."

It took only a couple of minutes to hit him with the wretched
ruler the three times she had promised. Each time the loud crack
signalled the numbing pain that he had to fight against to
remain in position.

He certainly felt for the previous generations of males who were
obliged to stand and take such knuckle aching cracks from a
stiff and starchy school mistress, probably in front of several
other boys and girls who must have flinched each time they heard
the noise in case they might be next.

Naturally, neither Mrs Rathbone nor the girls had any such
worries and were free to appreciate the effect it had had on
their victim. He had been looking round at all of them with
concern, but now he had the look of a man terrified about what
may come next. His visit to the centre was certainly having the
results that his owner had hoped for as he was already planning
to avoid another visit in any way he could.

He had no need to worry about any further pain or indignities
that day. Mrs Rathbone departed having made approving comments
as to the abilities of the wardress and the latter was soon
escorting him back to the waiting room and the discomfort seats.

He had to wait for around thirty minutes, during which he found
himself fidgeting to ease the discomfort from the seat and being
given disapproving glances by the lady officer in charge. He was
then given the envelope containing his report card and told to
dress and leave, which he did with some difficulty as his hands
were still throbbing and all too sensitive to him touching
anything. He departed for his owner's house as rapidly as he
could.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And now here he was, days later, in front of another group of
ladies who were fascinated to hear of his punishments in the
local. Naturally they insisted on closely examining his hands
and found the bruising they expected, particularly to the backs.

Amanda explained that the night he returned was when he was
scheduled to carry out her intimate laundry and she laughed
saying how he found the very hot water that she requires her
panties and things to be washed in to be even more uncomfortable
than usual.

Naturally, her sympathy extended to the next day when she had
him pruning a thick hedge with a small pair of secateurs that he
seemed to find difficult, especially as he wasn't allowed to
wear protective gloves. She had to hand it to the staff at the
local, they certainly changed attitudes as until today, Wendell
had been as good as gold. He would have to be brought down a peg
or two in front of the ladies, but first Lang had to be punished
for her carelessness earlier.

Once more she found herself at the present in front of the
comfortably seated guests. Sophie explained how she tried to
prevent Lang believing that she was in some way special by
dressing her in cast off's from the charity shops. Her panties
were the exception as she was made to wear Sophie's from the
previous day. I think we will start by having her strip to her
underwear so that you can see what I mean.

This she did, and Lang was soon standing in front of them, back
at the present, dressed only in her ill fitting dingy bra and
small white panties. To be forced to display herself in front of
people who knew her was almost unbearable, yet it had to be
endured as she knew only too well. Having heard the story about
the "local" she had no enthusiasm to do anything that would
enable Miss Sophie to book her in to their safe keeping.

Miss Sophie came straight to the point. Lang had been clumsy and
any form of clumsiness by a servant had to be punished. She
would normally have waited for her husband to return but decided
that it would be better if she allowed the guests to decide how
she should be disciplined.

But how would that be?

To be continued.

Members can read all previous episodes at:-
http://www.mschristine.com/DOMestic/sc.htm#willcane