The Trials of Pauline Ch. 10

Anne pressed a bell on the desk. No sooner had Helen and Polly settled in deep arm chairs, Lucy and Anne on the large sofa, than the door opened and one of the Greek Gods appeared with a tray of coffee which he placed on the low table beside Helen. He then went. During the conversation, she poured four cups of black strong coffee and handed them round.

'First, tell us something of the corrective establishment you were deputy governor of.'

'It was a home for young women who had become unmanageable at home or who had been abused by their fathers or other member of the immediate family. You'd be surprised how cruel some members of a family can be to their own female relatives.'

'What were the ages of these young girls?'

'From eighteen upwards. There were separate establishments for younger people.'

'And their backgrounds?'

'Varied. But many were from middle-class, respectable families.'

'What was the purpose of the establishment?'

'We were to teach the young ladies better forms of behaviour. The problem was often sexual frustration in the adolescents. This often meant correcting them with corporal punishment, since they had been brought up to believe that was essential for absolution. I am aware of that myself, since I was often punished by my father, though it was a mainly playful and erotic experience. Only when mother insisted did father beat me in anger. But even then I revelled in the pain, and the obvious signs of arousal in father's trousers gave me extra enjoyment. I would fantasise that he was fornicating with me as the slipper thudded against my sore bottom until it was swollen and burning crimson. Then I reached my orgasm.'

'Do you masturbate?'

'Frequently! Often with self flagellation.'

'Good! Tell me something of the house of correction.'

' A new inmate would be asked about her back-ground. Evidence from the family had already been taken separately. Any sexual abuse was referred immediately to a special counsellor, with treatment under carefully monitored conditions. Some of the girls, though, felt the need for correction to continue, because they had become accustomed to accepting thrashing as their only form of absolution. It then became our task to help them to overcome this fear.

'For some girls, however, it had become their main means of excitement and sexual arousal. With inmates such as these we arranged one-to-one therapy sessions. The girls often felt the need to retaliate against their thrashing. Physical revenge! We would act out that need as surrogates.'

'Can you give an example.'

'Yes, young Penny. Penny was a slim girl. She had the body of a waif, really. Small budding breasts with tiny nipples, and narrow hips. Thin legs which did not meet at the thighs. Her groin was covered with thick curls of mousey-coloured hair. She was unusually hairy down there. Her brown eyes were very large and innocent. Her head was often bowed in supplication and her demeanour subservient.

'In fact, Penny was the daughter of a senior captain of industry - since ennobled by the Queen - who was often away from home. During his absences, her mother would keep track of Penny's misbehaviour. So when her father returned, she would be punished for all of them during one week-end. Each misdemeanour had its own level of punishment. Being disobedient, for example, called for five strokes of the leather strap. Any sexual breaches six strokes of the cane. Not doing homework, or minor offenses, three strokes of the slipper. And so on.'

'What sort of sexual breaches?'

'Well, Penny told me that her mother would be waiting at the door for her coming home to examine her briefs for tell-tale stains resulting from sexual arousal. This might happen after a goodnight cuddle with the current boyfriend. Or, she might even discover her in his arms in the front porch, perhaps fondling his manhood. That would count a double punishment!'

'I see! Go on!'

'In a perverse way, Penny came to look forward to these corrective activities. She found them exciting because she remembered the reason for them and re-lived it in defiance as the smacking was going on. Though painful, she was able to orgasm more intensely after them.

'One day, Penny lost her temper with her mother who happened to be in her negligee at bed-time. Not an unusual occurrence. She'd been drinking. Again, not unusual! When Penny came in from the cinema, she was told to remove her briefs. Well, Penny had been on the back row with a boy, and there'd been some heavy petting. So, of course, her knickers were well stained and very wet.

'Her mother was horrified! "I shall keep these as evidence for your father when he comes home," she threatened. "You dare!" Penny shouted back. There was a tug of war with the knickers and Penny lost her temper. "Right! That's it!" And she ran into her father's study followed by her mother, railing at her. "You slut! Man crazy! Let any man feel you down there, between your legs, I suppose."

'Penny took the cane from the drawer of her father's desk. Her mother turned pale at the thought of what her daughter intended. She backed away but stumbled and fell into an arm chair. "No! You daren't!" she pleaded, scrambling to her feet unsteadily. Penny leapt at her, forced her over the arm of the chair, raised the hem of her night-dress to expose her mother's bare buttocks and thrashed her mercilessly.'

'Didn't the mother struggle?'

'Oh yes! To begin with, but Penny had her knee on her neck, so she soon submitted herself to the punishment. When Penny had recovered some of her composure, she saw how swollen and scarlet her mother's bottom had become. She realised she'd gone too far. It was also the first time she had seen her mother's genitals. They were surrounded by mousy-coloured curls, now glistening with juices aroused by the beating. The lips were a dark brown, wrinkled, inflated and obviously aroused.

'Penny told me that at that moment she realised that her mother must be sexually frustrated during her father's long absences. By this time, her mother was sobbing bitterly in the cushion of the arm chair. Her father kept a large red candle on his desk in case of power failures, which were fairly common at that time. It was one of those sugar-candy sort of candles, but much thicker than the usual Christmas affair. It was stuck in a short wooden holder.

'Penny swept it up, holding it by the wooden base, and placed it against the wet entrance between her mother's thighs. When her mother eased her bottom towards it, Penny realised that she was in need of solace. So she thrust it deep into her gash, pushing it in and out with firm regular twisting strokes. The sobs turned to whimpers of sadness. Then to sighs of happiness. Finally to a cry of triumph as she reached an orgasm.

'Penny felt disgusted with herself. And with her mother, though she couldn't understand why. She replaced the candle on the desk, leaving her mother slumped in the chair, and went to her bed.

'The episode wasn't mentioned after that. But it was with some apprehension that Penny waited for her father's homecoming. She was not disillusioned. On the evening of his return, dinner was taken normally, though conversation was strained. When the meal was over, her father, as was his custom, changed into his dressing gown for comfort.

Eventually, Penny was asked to go into the study for her regular punishment. There, she was made to bend over the very same arm of the chair she had used to thrash her mother. Standing to one side, her mother watched with a smug smile on her face. Her father took hold the hem of her dress, threw it over her hips, and dragged down her briefs to expose her bare cheeks. And her secret flesh!

'As I said, Penny was very hairy. She was secretly proud of her profuse growth. It aroused the boys! Besides covering her genitals, her fleece spread down each thigh, and reached up the crease of her bottom as far as to the brown puckered orifice. But now, in front of her father's probing gaze, Penny was mortified with embarrassment. Although she had been spanked many times, it was always with her cotton knickers covering her bareness.

Nothing was spoken until her father had the cane ready in his hand, swishing it about. Penny was waiting with some excitement mixed with trepidation. There was a thrill of sexual anticipation stirring deep in her belly.

'You know what you've done!' her father barked. 'I'll not repeat the offence. But you shall repay your mother with twenty-four lashes.'

Penny was shocked! Her throat dried up and the colour left her face. Twenty-four lashes! Could she stand it?

She steeled herself, stuffing the side of the cushion into her mouth to bite on. Then came the first lash. It stung and burned. Searing pain convulsed her body. Then another on the other cheek. The pain exploded in her mind as her loins jerked in response. The third was equally severe, crossing the previous stripes, stinging her with blinding agony. Penny could feel the flesh swelling as the blood pounded in the weals.

'The fourth; the fifth; the sixth followed in quick succession. Three biting slashes. There came a welcome pause. The throbbing pain engulfed her loins. Her little button, however, was burning with desire. Surely her father would see her sexual arousal in her crack, seeping onto the tufts of hair surrounding it. Then the lashes continued. Penny felt the strokes less and less as a numbness engulfed the buttocks. Suddenly, unable to control herself, a golden jet spurted from her, trickling into the folds of her skirt hanging over the chair arm.

'"Filthy bitch!" her mother cried as her father laid on with renewed vigour.

'There was a pause after the next half-dozen. Penny could hear her father breathing hard with the effort. She was aware of her soaking genitals amidst the heat of the throbbing cheeks. There was an atmosphere of steaming sexuality. Opening her eyes, Penny saw through her tears that her father was standing at her side. Her eyes opened even wider when, inside his dressing gown, she saw his thick shaft, rigid with arousal!

He must have been seriously stimulated. Penny's attention was distracted from the painful strokes he now inflicted on her burning cheeks. She studied his shaft swing from side to side as he swung the cane. She wanted to feel it! Inside her! Her incredulity was increased when, after the next six strokes she watched a bead of liquid formed on the end of his pleasure rod. She had the mad desire to lick it off!

Then, quite suddenly, as the next stroke whipped her buttocks, Penny cried out as the surge of an orgasm slammed into her. Her buttocks twitched and jerked around. Her father, of course didn't recognise it as an orgasm. He thought she had finally succumbed to the beating.

'There were yet more surprises in store for Penny. When her father had finished the beating, she felt her passage entered roughly, filling her to full stretch. It wasn't her father. He was still stood beside her, his stiffened manhood now openly displayed before her eyes. The intruder was rammed in and out, stimulating Penny as she kept her eyes glued to her father's stiffness, waving about in front of her eyes.

'Then she realised what it was! Her mother was wreaking revenge with the very same candle Penny had used on her! To her shame, Penny impulsively reached out and grasped her father's stiffness, feeling its iron-hard stiffness. It jerked at her touch. It was wonderful!'

Listening to Polly's story, Lucy's eyes were now shining with excitement. 'My God! What an erotic experience!'

'Well, just then, her father struck her insensible bottom with the willow cane, and knocked her hand away from his manhood, but not before it erupted. Penny reached a second, even more intense orgasm as her father's cock sprayed his sperm over her buttocks. The candle was withdrawn and her parents left her sprawled indecently over the arm of the chair, buttocks on fire. Her face wet with tears of pain and shame, she rubbed the cheeks very gingerly, spreading her father's emission into the skin, trying to soothe it.

'It was a long time before the burning abated, and Penny was able to stand again. In all this time, darkness had fallen. Chastened, Penny crawled her way slowly and painfully up the stairs to her room.

'Passing her parent's bedroom door on her hands and knees, she had her final surprise. There were distinct sounds of flogging from within the room. The door was ajar and through the dressing mirror, she saw reflected, her mother laying on the edge of the bed, legs splayed wide open. Her father was stood naked between his wife's thighs, thrusting heavily in and out. She was striking her father's buttocks with his slippers in rhythm to his lunges. At that very moment, her father exploded deep into his wife's nest. Then they saw her!'

'So, that's how she came to be referred to your establishment.' Lucy asked.

'Yes! She had become so used to regular punishment that we often beat each other. In fact, we became lovers until, eventually, she met a sensible young man who reformed her approach to sex. She later told me, though, that she and her now husband enhance their sex life with the occasional bondage and punishment.'

'What about your own family background?'

Polly told them of her father's disappearance and of her own erotic spankings by him up to the time of his journey to Greece.

'That all seems more than satisfactory. I take it from your earlier performance in this room that you are bi-sexual and enjoy spanking and bondage with both sexes.'

'Indeed!'

'Good! All that remains now is for you to correct Anne and myself. Helen will help you. We have spied in your love-making and deserve to be punished.'

Polly stood with an air of indignation. 'Spied on us?' she barked. 'Voyeurs demand a special punishment. Stand up!'

The two ladies obeyed. Polly and Helen began stripping their clothes from their bodies until the two stood before them in only their silk panties. Their almost identical breasts were small and rounded with stiffened nipples pointing upwards. Narrow waists with flat bellies, covered where the thighs join with blonde curls glittering with trapped sunlight. Wide hips, well-cushioned behind with soft cheeks, smooth and alabaster. Their legs were breathtaking, perfectly shaped and of equal length. Polly was again excited by their elegant figures.

'Stand with backs to the window. Place your hands round your calves!' Polly barked. The two did as she asked, folding their bodies to display buttocks against the silk fabric stretching over the rounded cheeks. The cotton gusset already darkened with moisture.

'Look! They have the impudence to become aroused and coat their knickers with their private nectar! That will require additional stokes.'

'Don't be too hard on us, please!' cried Lucy with fear in her voice.

'Gently, Helen. Don't be angry with us!' begged Anne.

Polly and Helen had stood on either side of the two bent women flexing their canes, swishing them through the air to practice the swing. The miscreants were waiting with anticipation for the first assault.

Polly nodded! Swoosh! Smack! Both canes struck the centre of the cheeks simultaneously. The buttocks winced with the sudden sting. Red weals swelled up beneath the silk where the canes had struck. Swoosh! Smack! The second swipe cut across the beautiful globes of soft flesh, raising another long weal on the writhing cheeks. A third and a fourth in quick succession forced Anne to cry out with the stinging pain.

Lucy still bit her lower lip, absorbing the hurt with a flinching movement. She lasted out the two final lashes with tears streaming from the corner of her eyes. The buttocks burned with thrilling fire as Anne whimpered in delightful agony.

Polly and Helen put their canes down and carefully peeled the silk knickers down the women's legs. They recoiled with the soreness of the dragging silk until the garments were stepped out of. The tormentors examined the swollen, bruised lattice-wok of angry flesh.

'To show there is no anger intended,' Polly told them, 'we will lick your wounds.' She and Helen knelt behind the moaning women, applying their wet tongues to the burning flesh. The women flinched to begin with but were soon enjoying the soothing nature of the healing tongues. Of course, their punishment had aroused their womanhood. Pink lips were pouting with glistening honey begging for attention from the tormentors.

Polly finally obliged Lucy's desire, pushing her mouth at the damp opening, prodding her stiffened tongue under the little hood. Helen did likewise for Anne. The moans turned to squeals of gratification, the buttocks pushing gently against their intruders.

'That's enough,' Polly cried standing. 'But stay where you are.' The bowl on a table by the window was full of various fruit. Selecting a large banana, Polly placed its end between the swollen lips, pushing the cool length slowly into the waiting passage. The feeling of a cool object filling the burning orifice added greatly to the thrill of being penetrated.

After pausing with it fully inserted for a few seconds, Polly began pulling it out and pushing it in, slowly at first, but gathering pace until Lucy was crying out with exhilaration as her excitement grew within her. Her loins flexed, her groin shook and her thighs trembled until, with a long wail her body lurched and convulsed with orgasmic release.

Anne was similarly affected. If anything, the banana Helen selected was rather longer than Polly's. The result was the same, though, Anne following Lucy's animal cry of joy as an orgasm ripped through her loins.