A Sissy Saga Ch. 05

She considered the plump tapered thighs and awesome swell of the rotund bottom pushing towards her and ran a hand over the pale curves to test their pliability, then stepping back she raised her arm. An energetic downward swing brought the belt into abrupt contact with the woman's exposed posterior with a satisfying THWACK! Soft flesh rippled and Mrs Amos uttered a tiny smothered noise as her muscles twitched and a red stripe blossomed across her half-moons.

It was the first of several. SMACK! The second struck her just above the mark of the first - thwack! - the third descending accurately beneath it. WALLOP! The one following caught her square under both buttocks and lifted her onto her toes. The cleaning-woman writhed and kicked her heels, while her bottom cheeks opened and closed spasmodically, but the gag in her mouth would only allow ineffective muffled groans of protest to vocalise.

The crack of leather striking soft flesh resounded with a noise not unlike that of wet fish striking a marble slab, and very soon the patchwork of smarting red blotches on her bared expanses melded together to form a single fiery glow.

Smack, smack, smack! A trio of well aimed blows cracked and popped as they bounced off the slack but resilient rump, making no additional marks, but giving deeper, more intense colour. Now Mrs Amos started to judder, twisting at each burning impact, her hips churning vigorously as she vainly tried to avoid contact.

All the time her backside was being pounded Mrs Amos had blooped and whined behind the rubber-ball in her mouth, but had made no attempt to rise up, and Emma observed a dazed somewhat ridiculous expression on her face when she was finally pulled back onto her feet. She was not tied or restrained in any way. The stupid woman could have made some signal of protest; she could have fought with her or run for the door, but instead she stood still and submissive in the manner of a drooping sack, both hands occupied with cuddling her painful buttocks. With her mouth salivating slightly around the edge of the ball-gag she sniffed sorrowfully, her doleful eyes purposely avoiding a confrontation with Emma's own hard stare.

So, thought Emma, the hideous hag soaks up abuse and was partial to a bit of rough treatment. Let's see just how much she can stand. She stood in front of her and displayed the length of hemp rope. "Since you're not expected anywhere immediately I shall keep you here for a while, Mrs Amos. But if I do that, you must agree to being bound. You don't object to being tied-up, do you?"

The woman seemed too stunned to reply, even if she was able.

"Take off that rag of a shirt and let's have you naked."

Mrs Amos wasn't handsome with her clothes on, and she was even less palatable without them Emma decided. She was small, plump around the belly and wide at the hips, but with scrawny limbs. Laid face down on the ethnic rug she looked a bit like a chicken carcass.

She made no effort to resist when her hands were pulled up behind her back, and Emma quickly tied her wrists together before hauling her feet back until her heels touched her buttocks. With her ankles securely bound to her wrists and completely immobilised she became a mere lump of meat, Gagged and laid on her belly with her limbs folded up behind her she had the appearance of a Sunday roast; indeed a chicken, trussed and ready for the oven. So compliant, so docile, thought Emma. Yes, a definite candidate for something not usually practised at Fairyfield. Mrs Amos would probably submit to being caned.

When Emma picked up the woman's overall from the floor she discovered a banister brush in the wide pocket, and a flash of inspiration flared in her mind. Returning to the helplessly bound figure on the rug she passed a hand under the assortment of straining limbs and spread open two sore buttocks before coolly placing the tip of the brush handle against the crinkle of the woman's anus. A slight push to establish it beyond her sphincter roused a muffled grunt, a noise that became extended to a wail as Emma slowly sheathed the entire length of the handle into her backside, plunging it down until hard bristles touched quivering flesh.

The schoolteacher stood up and looked at her watch. "I have to teach class until 4 o'clock, so you'll have to remain as you are for two or three hours. If the brush is still in place when I return I'll consider using you in future for a few menial tasks, but you'll never, ever, be allowed to touch the sissies. Understand?"

Wild-eyed, red-faced, Mrs Amos made a noise that was unintelligible, but from the determined way her anus clutched the embedded wooden shaft Emma felt nothing more needed to be said.