Renata's Vacation Ch. 03

Doña Francisca looked on in amused silence, then said, 'You'd better all get to bed now, I should think you need a night's sleep.'

I slept well, despite the nagging worry about what Sergio had said about having me 'marked.' What did he mean? I had heard about 'The Story of O' - lots of people mentioned it - but hadn't read it, or seen the film, so didn't know what to expect. I supposed I should find out soon enough.

I went down to breakfast, dressed in miniskirt and silk blouse, which was my normal 'uniform,' and ate alone, until Sergio joined me as I was finishing my coffee.

'As I said yesterday,' he told me, 'today I shall have you marked. At eleven, you will be taken from your room to the library. White negligee, please.'

I shuddered a little - that was the dress code when severe punishment was to be inflicted, I knew.

Just before eleven, I made up carefully, and put on the long, transparent negligee, tied with braided cord, slipped on a pair off high-heeled mules, and waited until I heard a knock on my door.

It was Doña Francisca, dressed in a short, tight black dress and needle-heeled boots, her platinum hair severely tied up in a bun. With her was one off the silent servant girls, carrying a tray. The older woman motioned for the girl to put the tray on the dressing table, and took from it a silver choker, which she fastened around my neck. It had a ring set into it, at the front. Then she took my wrists and cuffed them behind my back in a pair of normal handcuffs, and completed my humiliation by having the girl shackle my ankles with a pair of metal cuffs joined by a very short length of chain.

'Is this really necessary?' I asked.

'It is a bit of theatre, dear,' she explained, 'we have an audience, you see.'

Before I could question her any further, she had attached a leash to my choker, and we were off down the corridor, the other two walking slowly so that I should be able to keep up with the tiny mincing steps I could manage in my shackles.

When we reached the library, I heard a murmur of voices from within, and, when the double doors were flung open, I was surprised to see lines of people down each side of the big room, all seated on sofas brought in for the occasion. The only place not covered by seating was the big St Andrew's Cross, which occupied a section of one wall.

When Doña Francisca led me into the centre of the room, I looked around, and saw Mai, Ria, and Sergio sat together, the club's owners, Mario and Marta, and a lot of people, mainly well-heeled looking types, whom I didn't know.

A few days ago, I might have been embarrassed to be paraded in front of these people, but how my life had changed, I thought!

At a signal from Sergio, Doña Francisca released my leash, and had the girl take off my cuffs, helped me take of the negligee, then the older woman led me naked to the cross, and, producing soft leather restraints, bound me to it, so that I thought I was to be whipped. At that, I almost relaxed. If that was all it was.......

But after a moment, I became aware of the sound of wheels, and a glance over my shoulder gave me cause for a terror such as I had never before known. I saw in an instant the nature of my 'marking' - a mobile barbecue was being brought in, with a branding iron sticking into the red-hot coals!

'No!' I shouted, but the word stuck in my throat, and before I could get a real protest together, Doña Fraancisca was pulling the iron out of the fire, so that, out of the corner of my eye, I could see its red end glowing, and smell the burning, feel the very heat approaching.

Helplessly bound, I closed my eyes, and waited, then came the searing, awful, terrible pain, worse than anything I could have imagined, as my right buttock was scorched, the delicate flesh violated by this dreadful instrument. Blackness overtook me.

I awoke in Sergio's arms, on a sofa, in the library, alone - it could have been hours, days, weeks later - it was ten minutes, as I found out.

'My arse,' was all I could say, and when I put my hand around to feel it, I encountered a great wad of dressing, but the soreness was killing me.

'It'll be fine in a day or two,' said Sergio, 'I'm so proud of you, Pet.'

He slept with me that night - and for may more after that - and when I finally was able to see my mark, it was the club insignia: a riding crop across a naked woman's body.