Anna's Ritual

It seems childish to her to cry from a mere hand-spanking when she will receive punishments so much harsher later on. But weep she does. After the spanking has been in progress for about five minutes, she cannot help but burst into tears. Her defences have been slowly peeled away by the constant barrage of smacks. At first little more than mildly uncomfortable, but as the sting grows and intensifies, it becomes all she can do to keep her hands away (oh she must, must keep her hands away). He legs kick up and flail in the air, and she is wriggling like mad, but Sir keeps smacking her, her buttocks and the tops of her thighs. All is now red and the tears drip constantly, some falling on the carpet below her, but most flung into the air as her head jerks from each successive smack.

At last Sir considers her bottom warmed enough. He orders her to stand and sends her to the corner. There, she stands facing the wall, hands on head, snivelling and weeping. Her bottom and thighs are really stinging. She wishes she could blow her noses instead of having to snivel, its so unseemly and undignified. She knows her bottom is five sizes bigger than it was and must be shining like a beacon. She wishes she could rub the sting away but she does not dare take her hands away from her head.

Julie stands behind her commenting to Sir on how she looks like a baby, crying like that from just a simple smacking. Julie is enjoying herself, the bitch. Julie wonders out loud how she's going to be able to take a proper punishment from Sir. Through her tears, Anna vows to the wall that she can take it all, she'll show Julie who's a baby and who's a real woman.

Tears are dry now. Sir allows her to blow her nose.

On Sir's command, she fetches the cane. Her hand almost recoils from picking it up; she loves this weapon that has extracted from her so many screams and pleas with its loving caress. She loves it, and she hates it.

Sir has placed two chairs back to back. She kneels on one and places her hands on the seat of the other. At Sir's command, Julie squats in front of her and holds her wrists – we don't want her earning extras from getting up do we! As Julie's short skirt rides up, Anna notices that she was right; Julie does have some tissues stuck in her sex. "Not fair!" thinks Anna. The first stroke descends.

Anna always tries to be brave. She hates hearing herself cry out, even worse when she totally loses control and starts screaming. The first one slices into her hot buttocks. Sir always starts nice and fair on the middle of her bottom. Soon he will lower his strokes to the sulcus and then her thighs, but for now it is square in the middle. And bearable … just. She confines her vocalisations to a small "ugh" through clenched teeth. Julie smiles up at her. It's such a happy little ritual for Julie. She gets her jollies from Anna's pain, how nice.

Second stroke and Anna's head comes up. Ouch, sting starting to build now. The first stroke is smarting nicely and she starts to feel that delicious fire build as the second one begins its task of raising the sting on top of the first. Delicious? Yes delicious and hateful at the same time. She cannot explain why she seeks out this feeling. Perhaps it is the intensity. Perhaps it is the fact that she must undergo the fire no matter how much it hurts. She doesn't know, but time for reflection is rather short as the third stroke impacts a fraction below number two. A rather more forceful grunt and one knee is jammed into the back of the other.

The caning continues. Sir doesn't count aloud, but two dozen stripes are painted on Anna's bottom. It is always a pretty bottom, but somehow the livid strips of red, turning blue, serve to enhance its beauty. There are rather a great many tears. These started to flow at around stroke twelve. Lots of kicking and drumming of legs on the chair. Much begging for the strokes to be less hard; for a break, just a moment or two. Sir seems deaf to such pleas. Thankfully Julie hasn't let go of Anna's hands otherwise she most assuredly would have broken position, and that would never do. And of course, there are a further twelve stripes on the backs of her thighs. Sir always likes to make sure the thighs are well thrashed. Later he will add a further half dozen lower down towards her knees where Anna's stocking tops are. He likes to finish her off that way. The smarting is rather special Anna tells him.

A little rest and it is time for the specials. First, she is allowed to rub the atrocious sting and then she is facing the wailing wall again with tears cascading down her cheeks. There is a higher intensity to her weeping now and Anna has forgotten about dignity. Julie doesn't taunt her now. In reality, she rather respects Anna for her willingness to undergo the tests that Sir sets her. And also she is offering up for bottom to Sir's penis right now and therefore more concerned with her own and Sir's pleasure than with her friend's distress.

Anna's wailing seems to be calming now, just as Julie seems to have taken up the cry herself, Anna guesses that her friend is having rather the better time tonight. But she smiles inwardly, even through her tears, knowing that, if Sir is buggering Julie (and he always does), he will most assuredly service her in a most satisfactory manner later, fore and aft, so to speak. And Anna always finds sex after a thorough beating to be so much the better for it.

Order is restored to Sir's clothing and Julie has a bit of a far-away look in her eye. Anna is little surprised that Sir orders her to accompany Julie to the bathroom. It is made clear to her that she is honoured to imbibe Sir's precious seed, recovering it from both of Julie's lower orifices. Really! This is taking things a bit far. But Sir's steely eye is quite resolute. And what is the harm? After all she and Julie have had plenty of girl on girl play-times –and yes even licked bottoms (but she wouldn't dare admit it to anyone, except perhaps Sir, during confession). And what is wrong with that, as long as they are both clean. Anna suspects that Julie has been meticulous as her, after all Sir is a stickler for cleanliness. She suspects that Sir fill have had Julie take him in her mouth once the act was finished. Sir says it is by far the best incentive to a girl to ensure she is clean – and Anna cannot but agree!

Returning from the bathroom, Julie is very happy. She loves having Anna perform for her like that. Anna is very sore but feeling rather pleased with herself. Her bottom and thighs are still smarting something awful. But at least she has the taste of Sir on her tongue. And Julie at least had the charity to apply her tongue to Anna's pussy while Anna attended to Julie's nether regions. Yes, very satisfactory.

Time for her penance. Two dozen with the crop. A wicked instrument and one that searches her out. It tests her courage every bit as much as the cane. The bite and sting are a little different somehow, but every bit as painful.

Anna takes these lying back on the settee with her legs up over her head. Her bottom is hanging over the edge of the chair and Julie stands behind holding Anna's legs to stop her dropping them or, even worse, kicking Sir. That would never do.

It is a shaming, but most effective position. From the start, Anna yelps and then howls as two dozen strokes are laid on with a will on her already throbbing bottom and thighs. Julie has a job hanging on to those legs as they writhe in agony. Sir whips her hard and without compromise. Each scream causes vindicates his accuracy and style. He knows well how to ply the weapons of pain through long experience. Each howl is an acknowledgment of his mastery of his craft, and of this woman.

When the beating is over Anna is allowed to crumple to the floor, a sobbing wreck. She gingerly grasps her behind, her thighs, trying to rub the sting away, the flames that burn in her tortured flesh.

Fifteen minutes of Anna sobbing and snuffling in the corner are sufficient for Julie and Sir to consume a whisky while quietly contemplating her distress.

It is now time for extras. And there are rather a lot of them. In fact, the count is 102! And 56 of those are specials. Specials? – special because they caress parts of her anatomy other than the more usual points of punishment. Very painful? Very! Perhaps delivered with a degree of leniency? No, I'm afraid that just wouldn't do. Anna has to learn her lessons after all.

Sir starts with Anna's armpits. Anna stands in the centre of the room, trying to display a new resolve now that the previous tears have dried and she has regained somewhat of her composure. Both arms raised with elbows grasped in opposing hands on top of her head, she awaits the smacking to start. This will sting, but its impact is relatively short lasting. There will be no bruising, and by tomorrow night, she not be inconvenienced any more when she lets her arms drop to her sides. A short tawse is produced and Julie gives her a quick kiss (at last some solidarity and compassion being shown?)

Sir stands in front and whips each bare armpit in turn. He is proud of his skills and chooses this stance to avoid striking either her breasts or worse, her face if he were to deliver the beating from behind. Anna takes these blows well as he alternates the strokes to each armpit in turn. He draws from her a grunt, becoming a rather distressed grunt by the time full measure has been delivered; but in terms of specials, these are rather easy to bear. No tears this time, though the last few cause her to snort a bit.

Sir kisses each throbbing armpit and asks Julie to lock Anna's arms in place. It is time for Anna's breasts to be cropped. She hates this. This is real pain. She asks for a gag as she knows she will embarrass herself with her pleas for mercy. And she doesn't want mercy; she wants to be taken over the hill to that valley of acceptance where Sir wants to take her. Julie's panties are pressed into service (after being used to mop the juices from between the legs of both ladies) as a gag and these are stuffed into her mouth with a scarf tied around her head to keep them in place.

The riding crop is the same vicious black leather clad beast that previously whipped her bottom and thighs. Sir stands to one side and strikes. It is a full strength blow directed to the upper slopes of Anna's breasts. Anna buckles, and would fall to the ground if Julie had not been holding her. A thin red line springs up immediately. Tears sprout from her eyes and she starts to choke on her gag. Sir gives her a moment to absorb the pain and present herself for the next stroke. Sir insists on this. He often tells her the futility of beating a woman who does not willingly accept her chastisement. In discipline, he tells her, there must be self-discipline, exercised both by the chastiser and the chastised. "Bollocks, it just makes it easier to whip me!" she thinks, but she doesn't say so.

Anna screams behind her gag at every slash of the crop. She writhes in agony. Sir alternates the blows between the upper and lower slopes of her tortured breasts. He delivers the mandated dozen, but doesn't stop. No, she will wear some of the other specials on her chest as well. And now, of course, come the four nipple shots. Julie tightens her grip on the weeping Anna. Nipples hardened in anticipation (Anna can't imagine why they betray her in this way. Don't they know they about to be whipped?)

Agony! The crop takes both nipples at the very tip. Oh, yes, Sir is very much on form tonight. How can she possibly take three more like that? But she does. The sting is incredible. She imagines that her tits her been ripped open at the very least. But there is no blood.

It takes several minutes between each stroke for her to settle enough to allow Julie to tighten her grip for the next but eventually the four strokes are delivered. No misses, all on target. Released from Julie's grip, Anna falls to the floor and curls up in a foetal position, cradling her wounded breasts in her arms, oblivious to world around her. "Never, never, never again." She thinks to herself through her choking sobs.

A pussy whipping beckons. Relieved of her gag, Anna weeps and moans for a while her mentor and friend look on. Can she arise for another torture?

As soon as she is able, Sir arranges her so that he has a clear field of fire (so to speak). She lies face up on the kitchen table. Julie is squatting on her chest (her poor tits) bottom planted in Anna's face (she's already rather familiar with that part of her friend's anatomy thank you very much!) Julie holds Anna's legs, one on each side so that her friend is reminded of her last visit to the gynaecologist, only this is much more exposed. Julie is fascinated with the welts on Anna's legs and bottom – how beautiful they look!

Sir approaches with a martinet. The dozen strands of leather will impart a fearful sting, but will not damage the tender sex on which they will strike. Anna cannot see the approaching doom, and so is not tensed when the first lash lands. Sir has aimed it squarely on her labia. The tips strike her mons and catch at her clitoris. It hurts. Not desperately – not yet. At the first lash it is more the shock of being whipped in such an intimate place. The pain will build over the two dozen she is due. Nevertheless, she kicks her legs and lands a high heel on the back of Julie's head. Julie does not thank her, but instead slaps an exposed buttock hard. Perhaps Anna will control her feet better for the rest.

And the rest come in a measured cadence. Sir strikes left and right as well as centre, to ensure that the tender inner thighs also receive their fair share. In fact Sir allocated quite a few of the remaining extras to Anna's inner thighs. These are soon flaming red and she quickly moves to howls and tears. She struggles hard to escape from the lash, but Julie holds her well. There is no escape. There is pain. The martinet does not break the tender skin, but the smart mounts.

It is clear that Anna's body has a defensive strategy. Her sex pours forth its fluids in an attempt to protect Anna's loins from this outrageous assault. Or perhaps it is just an expression of her arousal. In either event, the martinet now slaps wetly between her legs. Its sound is now a splat rather than the crisp whipping sound of before. But that does not mitigate the awful smart that builds as the beating proceeds.

At last Sir is satisfied that this portion of the evening is complete. He ceases to flog the sex of his protégé and Julie frees the punished woman's legs. Again Anna curls into a ball and loses herself to her pain.

The interlude is brief and Sir rearranges Anna so that she now bends over the kitchen table in the normal manner. Normal that is, for a woman about to be caned. Yes, it is time again for the cane. Forty strokes remain. Rather a lot, but there you are. A naughty girl has only herself to blame. And this one is still weeping and sobbing and trying to rub her pussy and thighs. No self-control at all one might think. Well we don't expect to complete a girl's training in one evening, do we.

Suffice to say the cane is plied with vigour. The focus of the strokes is the lower part of the bottom and tops of thighs. Sir allows Julie to deliver twelve herself (he adds a few more to the tally because he thinks some of Julie's strokes are rather weak). Anna is rather beyond caring and has reached the point of just weeping more loudly when any particularly painful stroke lands.

However, Sir is a bit of a showman, so he always likes to finish with a flourish. For this he unclips Anna's stockings and rolls them down to her knees. He now has unbeaten flesh to work with and delivers six crisp stripes (though he has trouble getting Anna to keep her legs together and it ends up being ten). And for the very last, there are four pussy shots from behind. These he delivers by aiming at Anna's delicious sulcus and caning short so that the tip of the cane disappears in between the afflicted woman's thighs. A shriek above all others tells Sir that he has found his mark. It takes a while to convince the gibbering woman to resume her position for the other three but the task is finally complete.

What an effort! Sir sits down to refresh himself with a whisky while Julie helps the hobbling, weeping Anna up to bathroom. A long hot bath for both of them will restore the women to an appropriate state.

It is an hour later when Anna returns, her gait somewhat unusual (not perhaps for Anna, but certainly not the gait of most women in the High Street on market day), her marks livid and proud. She kneels before her mentor and thanks him sincerely for taking the time to correct her.

We draw the curtain now, as the two ladies reward Sir for his efforts. In particular, Anna, despite her pains, performs in a most enthusiastic fashion. And Sir acknowledges "bedroom athlete" as one of his talents. But rest assured that when they leave in the early hours of Saturday morning, Anna will be bending over for the cane – another twelve well laid on, on her cruelly marked backside. It is Sir's requirement that she leave his house weeping. It's just the way it has to be.