Ladies That Lunch

"Don't worry Louise, with our help it won't be long, and you will have such fun." Charlotte pressed her hand on Louise's knee as she spoke, looking into her eyes.

"Now, to bed ladies, we have an early start tomorrow."

Chapter 3.

Louise woke up with the sun streaming through the open window. She could smell freshly mowed lawns and hear a dog, faraway, barking. The room was large and well proportioned, elegantly decorated with expensive furniture and sumptuous curtains. She looked at her watch. 8.15am.

As she stretched and yawned she thought to herself, "well, 5 hours is probably enough sleep at the weekend." She padded over to the bathroom, quite naked, and stuck out her tongue, examining it closely in the bathroom mirror. Then pulling down her bottom eyelids, she groaned, and determined to take a long shower and ignore her fatigue.

Downstairs Peter and Tom had been up since 5am, busying themselves in the kitchen and drawing room. Tom, in a lovely Victorian maid's uniform, with a long heavy skirt, on his hands and knees scrubbing the stage with meticulous attention.. His bottom wiggled as he worked, curvaceous and feminine, even under the folds of heavy black wool. A huge, stiffly starched bow at the back of his apron, white and crisp, contrasted beautifully with his skirts, and you could see three layers of laced petticoat, also in pure white cotton, teasingly on show as he worked.

Peter had been provided with a quite different look by Tilly. As he worked around the dining room table, laying places for breakfast, his frilly pale blue panties peaked out from behind the tiniest matching day dress, which fanned out from his heavily cinched waist, almost horizontally. He wore white stockings, with pale blue suspenders and matching heels.

Charlotte and Tilly had had rather less sleep than Louise, and as Louise looked up at the shower head, brushing her hair back over her shoulders, in the next room Tilly, rolling her tongue around Charlotte's mouth, pressed herself down onto Charlotte's fingers in one final ecstatic movement before exploding quietly under the duvet in a long a blissful release.

On the surface, the whole domestic rhythm of the household flowed happily along. But this morning there was tension in the air. There was unfinished business to be taken care of, and everyone knew it.

Up in Peter's bedroom Simon stood naked facing the wall, his arms bound together tightly stretched upwards, chained to two eyebolts in the ceiling. He had tried to get some sleep by resting the side of his head against the cold wall and bending his knees. But it had been an awful night. The weals on his bottom and thighs still stung, and he could feel a dull ache all over. He was so tired he couldn't think straight, and as he drifted in and out of sleep he began to hallucinate. Vague thoughts, female voices, soft voices, feelings of impending doom. He drifted asleep again.

After breakfast Peter and Tom cleared the table and the ladies retreated into the conservatory. In the middle of the room Peter and tom had wheeled an elaborate, heavy oak contraption. It had two padded rests at a low level for forearms, and at the rear two padded rests for knees and shins. Each rest had two restraints in leather, to secure both the top and bottom of each limb, wrist and elbow, knee and ankle.

The boys had also placed a decorated brass umbrella stand in the middle of the room, which was full of an elaborate collection of canes and paddles and whips.

"Louise, I suggest that you participate this morning. It will help to reinforce the message. How do you feel about that?" Charlotte smiled as she spoke, running her fingers slowly up the caning bench.

Louise nodded slowly. "I think that would be appropriate Charlotte. Thank you."

Tilly moved two dining chairs to the front of the machine, and sat down. Louise sat down beside her.

The sun streamed in through the windows, flooding the room with light and warmth. The tension was almost unbearable. Charlotte toyed with the handles of several canes, pulling some of them out, and swishing them theatrically in the air, and then bringing them down hard by her side.

At 9am there was a knock on the door.

Charlotte opened the double doors, and Peter and Tom frog marched Simon in, and, turning him around, placed him in front of the machine. He looked pale and tired. Before he had a chance to orientate himself properly, Peter and Tom took him gently but firmly by the arms and pulled him onto the machine, locking his wrists to the bench, and then lifting each knee into place. They fussed with each buckle and then stood back, brushing their pinnies down neatly, and bowing their heads.

"Wait in your room girls." Charlotte's voice was clipped. The girls curtsied deeply and left the room quietly. Tom held onto Peter's arm tightly as they walked upstairs slowly, fearful for their new friend. They knew they would have to pick up the pieces later, and once in the bedroom, sat quietly together on the bed, holding each other's hands, and talking in hushed whispers.

The slope of the machine forced Simon's bottom up into the room, displaying himself in a rude and ridiculous way in front of the three ladies. He had to make a real effort to lift his head up far enough to see Tilly and Louise, and then he could only manage a few seconds, before having to drop his head and stare at the floor again.

After an age Charlotte spoke.

"Silence at last. Very good. I am pleased to see that you appear to have learnt yesterday's lesson Simon. So now that you have learnt the consequences of disobedience it is time for you to begin to understand."

Simon looked at the parquet floor, focusing on the grains of wood, his nostrils full of the scent of floor polish. He dared not move.

"You will understand one thing at a time. This will make things very simple for you. This will ensure that you do not forget."

Simon found Charlotte's curious choice of words disconcerting and frightening.

"Are you ready to understand Simon?"

Simon looked up, straining to look at Charlotte's face. Her clothes added to his sense of unease. Charlotte wore a very plain beige cotton skirt and a cream blouse, American tan tights and plain cream shoes with a modest heel. She could have come straight from a coffee morning, but this most definitely did not feel like a coffee morning To Simon.

"I am waiting Simon?"

Simon strained and just manage to hold his head up long enough to catch Charlotte's expression.

" I...I...think so."

"Well, I wish you to know so, not think so, Simon."

A few moments later Simon heard Charlotte draw out a cane from the stand and listened to her footsteps as she approached him from behind.

"This morning Simon we are going to teach you about respect for women."

The first blow came as a huge shock. Simon had expected more explanation, and he was most definitely not prepared for the severity of the blow that landed right across the centre of his buttocks. The room resonated with a loud crack and a stinging wave of exquisite agony tore though him. He yelped like a dog, and tried to move his buttocks from side to side to dissipate the pain. The second and third strokes came in quick succession, both across the centre of his thighs, leaving his head spinning. Charlotte finished after 16 strokes and slowly placed the cane back in the stand.

Louise stood up and walked over to her husband. She stood, hands on her hips, legs slightly apart, and looked down at her pathetic husband, naked and bound, breathing hard and whimpering with pain. After a few moments he looked up, and their eyes met. Simon expected to see love, sympathy, empathy. His wife looked down on him.

"You will thank Miss Charlotte for her kind attentions Simon, right now. I will not be embarrassed by your ingratitude."

Simon felt the side of Louise's shoe being rubbed hard up and down his cheek as his wife intonated her words, emphasizing every syllable. She lifted his chin with the pointed toe of her shoe, and Simon could feel the cruel tip dig into his jaw painfully.

"Thank you Miss Charlotte," he whispered, tears running down his cheeks. He had thought that his wife would have shown some warmth, some compassion, but now he felt quite alone. His tears were tears of betrayal. He felt like a small child lost in a supermarket, alone and frightened.

"Good. Some manners at last. Perhaps we are making some progress after all," Charlotte said, taking Louise's seat and running the back of her fingers softly over Tilly's knee.

Louise withdrew her foot and circled her husband, admiring the red and purple marks across his buttocks and thighs. The heat radiated from his body, as he lay there, his bottom presented to the room, in total humiliation.

Louise pulled out of the stand a long, thick strap with an elaborate bound leather handle. She ran it through her fingers, and then snapped it down next to her thigh. It almost spat back at her, as the energy released itself from the end with a loud crack. Again, Louise raised the handle, and dropped it down in one smooth sharp movement. Crack.

Simon, tried to turn his head to see, but Louise deliberately stood directly behind him. She ran her blood red nails down her husband's back, down his buttock and thigh. He yelped with pain.

"Oh dear. Did that hurt dear?"

No-one expected a reply.

"Now, Simon. From now onward our relationship is going to be very different. You are going to change, and you are going to be very happy with the changes."

Louise walked around to the front of the bench, and caressed Simon's cheek with the tip of her strap.

"You are going to obey me. You are going to be courteous, respectful and meek. When I am happy with your behaviour you will be rewarded. When I am unhappy with your behaviour you will be punished. Soon you will learn that your behaviour will dictate your happiness, and mine. In this way you will have total control over your life through the decisions you make. Obedience will lead to a happy life, disobedience will lead to an unhappy life. Do you understand me Simon?"

"I don't know what is happening to me. Please Louise, why are doing this?"

Louise bent down, close to Simon's ear, and whispered.

"You will never ask me a question again, and you will never express an opinion again, and when I asked you a question I expect an answer immediately."

"You have disobeyed me. So now you will be punished for your disobedience. You have chosen to be disobedient and now you will face the consequences of that decision"

Simon closed his eyes, and bit his lip. Something in Louise's tone told him that it would be very unwise indeed to speak now.

Charlotte and Tilly looked on, legs crossed, enjoying Louise's slow and steady approach. This was turning out much better than they expected.

The first stroke came down across the middle of Simon's thighs with a loud crack, curling around the side and biting deeply into his leg. The pain was unlike anything Simon had experienced before. He had learnt to accept the pain from the cane with its stinging agony followed by a slow descent into a long, steady burning sensation.

This was quite different. The force of the stroke caused his muscles to contract and he strained against his restraints, desperate to get away from the source of such unbearable pain. At first all he could feel was the force of the blow, but a second later the pain soared, upwards and upwards, until his head started to spin in a blue haze.

Louise worked slowly, methodically, bringing the strap down again and again, across his buttocks, back to his thighs, bottom again. Seven, eight, nine, ten. Enough.

"Now Simon. Again. Do you understand?" Louise spoke her words slowly

Simon nodded, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Yes, yes...I understand."

"Excellent. I think ladies that we may have made some progress." Charlotte and Tilly unbuckled Simon's restraints and helped him to his feet.

"Now Simon, we wish to see you down here in that beautiful pink party dress. Is that understood?

"Yes Miss Charlotte."

"Run along then, there's a good girl."

Simon, naked, humiliated, broken, left the room and made his way back to Peter's bedroom.

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