Her Butler Pt. 02

It seemed like a long time, just waiting. Jim began to wonder what else might be on the other side of the mirror. Were people watching him? He tried adjusting his hips so there was less pressure on his new cage. There was little he could do. He looked over at the nurse. She smiled, "It will be alright, Mr. O'Neall. Mistress Jacobs is good at her job. Just remember to breathe. Don't worry. Disciplinary punishments like this don't take long. Just relax."

The woman he met in the office, Mistress Jacobs, came in. She went to a cabinet on his left. He saw her select a long wooden paddle from a collection of paddles and straps. "Are we ready to begin?" Mistress Jacobs was standing behind him, holding the paddle against his naked bottom. He looked up at the television. He could see rows of holes drilled into the polished wood.

From her corner the nurse answered, "Everything looks good. Pulse regular, blood oxygen normal."

"Excellent. Mr. O'Neall, we are recording your paddling for our client's review and approval. Our work carries a full warranty. If the client is dissatisfied or if you, the delinquent, question the severity of this correction, we offer a complete do over to ensure good results."

Jim put his head down. He took a breath. "So, are you ready Mr. O'Neall? You know once we begin there is no turning back. Feel free to shout, complain and beg all you want. No one can hear and no one will come to your aid. There will be no mercy; your punishment will be completed. This is your last chance to opt out. Shall we begin, Mr. O'Neall?

"Yes, Ma'am." His voice had more confidence than he. He saw his pulse rise. He took a breath. Mistress Jacobs was to his left.

"Please say your full name for the video."

"James William O'Neall."

"And what punishment are you here to receive for your delinquency?"

"I am here for a level seven paddling."

"And I am just the woman to deliver it." With that she landed the first of ten hard strokes. The sound exploded in the room. Jim could hardly believe how much it hurt. He stopped breathing with the third. By the seventh he was certain he could not survive. At ten she stopped.

"Oh my God," he screamed. His mind was spinning. He pulled on his wrist restraints. He twisted around to see her.

"Mr. O'Neall, do I have your full attention now?"

He didn't answer right away. She hit him again three times. He shouted, "Fuck! Yes, Ma'am."

Mr. O'Neall, I won't tolerate swearing. One more outburst like that and you will be punished for it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Mr. O'Neall, you have been charged with the crime of voyeurism and you have pled guilty to this crime. Is that correct Mr. O'Neall?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She hit him again, "Louder, Mr. O'Neall."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Good. You have also been charged with the crime of masturbating without permission. Are you guilty of this crime, Mr. O'Neall?" She tapped the paddle on his shoulders.

"Yes, Ma'am."

In the mirror wall to his right he saw her pull back. He arched his back, struggling to escape that paddle. He looked down at the monitor and watched in horror at the distortion of his buttocks. The paddle went right through him. He couldn't breathe.

"Are you sorry for your crimes, Mr. O'Neall?"

He inhaled deeply. "Yes, Ma'am!"

"Mr. O'Neall, do you need to be punished for your crimes?"

Another deep breath, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Very good. After each stroke you will apologize for your misdeeds and ask politely for the next one. 'I'm sorry,' followed by 'May I have another?' Do you understand, Mr. O'Neall?"

"Yes, Ma'am." As he got the Ma'am out of his mouth the sound of the paddle on flesh exploded. "Oh God, I'm sorry. May I have another?"

As the beating continued, his apologies melted into tears. When he stopped asking for another, the strokes began falling fast and hard. She worked both sides of his butt cheeks focusing on one for several strokes, then the other. The room filled with sound of his punishment and his cries: he begging her to stop, the paddle relentlessly striking flesh. He pulled on his bindings as hard as he could. He cried out.

"Please stop, please stop, please stop, please..." Jim kept repeating. With every stroke, his shoulders jerked up but the belt across his lower back held him in place. There was no avoiding her paddle. In the monitor he saw it land over and over. She worked the back of his thighs. He started sobbing. Tears flowed.

"You beg for mercy, but did you have any mercy as you abused your position in our client's household? What is your crime, Mr. O'Neall?" She prodded his back with the paddle.

Between heavy sobs he said, "I ... looked ... at her ... underwear."

"Voyeurism is a serious offense Do you agree?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Please Ma'am." He continued begging between sobs.

She cut him off, "So now, in the midst of receiving just reward, you are sorry for abusing your trusted position?

"Yes, I am sorry. Please Ma'am."

"So now might we can go back to apologizing and asking for another?"

"Oh My God, Ma'am. Please Ma'am. Please "

"I take that for a yes. I want you to look directly into the Camera in front of you and apologize to our client for your behavior."

"Yes, Ma'am. Jennifer, I apologize for betraying your trust in me.

"Now ask for another."

"Please Ma'am, No!"

"I take that to be a request for another stroke." With that she delivered and he howled. "Your apology to our client?"

"Jennifer, I apologize for betraying your trust in me."

"And your request?"

"Please, Ma'am. Owww! Fuck!"

"Mister O'Neall, what did I say about using that term?"

Between sobs he got out, "I... would... be... punished."

"Exactly. Mr. O'Neall. Nurse Lanette, would you be so kind as to wash Mr. O'Neall's mouth out with soap?"

The nurse brought a bowl of water from her desk in which a bar of Ivory soap had been softening. Mistress Jacobs pulled his head back by his hair and Nurse Lanette pressed the softened bar of soap against his closed lips. "Open up, Mr. O'Neall! This won't hurt. I'll be careful." The awful taste of the soap made him gag. Nurse Lanette made sure to rub the bar against all his teeth and his tongue, soap lather filled his mouth. He couldn't get it off his tongue. She rubbed his face with it.

"There now, Mr. O'Neall, we can now begin again with your final thirty-six. I trust we will have no more use of that word."

Thirty-six strokes later, thirty-six apologies later, Miss Jacob's announced, "I believe we have dealt with the offence of voyeurism sufficiently.

"Thank you, Ma'am." He let out a long breath and relaxed a little, spitting soap into the towel.

"But your offensive behavior also included masturbation while imagining our client in her underwear. I believe we have yet to deal effectively with that obnoxious and vulgar behavior. Which hand do you use to masturbate, Mr. O'Neall?"

Jim didn't answer right away. She came round to the front, holding the paddle before him. Jim could see his blood on it

"Your chart says you use your left hand to masturbate. Is the true, Mr. O'Neall?"

"Yes, left hand."

"I think we should deal with your repulsive behavior by using the tawes on your offensive left hand, rather than continued paddling of your backside, don't you agree, Mr. O'Neall?"

He didn't answer right away, he didn't understand her question. "Do we need to continue with this paddle on your backside, Mr. O'Neall?"

"No, Ma'am!" He shouted as loudly as he could.

"Shall we deal with your repulsive behavior, unacceptable masturbation with a tawes, Mr. O'Neall?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Jim was completely defeated. The soap made it difficult to speak clearly. He tried to push it out of his mouth. He was drooling uncontrollably into a towel the nurse put there for the purpose.

The paddle was exchanged for a leather strap with two tails. Mistress Jacobs returned to stand in front of him. "Mr. O'Neall, please extend your left hand, palm up. Yes, just like that." The restraints allowed him to offer his hand, resting on the bench. She waited a moment, as if considering the situation.

"Now, I might have thought twelve strokes appropriate severe correction for masturbating in this ugly manner, but you have agreed to wearing a chastity device. So perhaps we can reduce the punishment in half. What do you say to that, Mr. O'Neall?"

"Yes Ma'am. Thank you "Ma'am."

"So, you hereby agree to six strokes with a tawes to your left hand as punishment for masturbating without consent?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry Ma'am."

"You will be sorry young man. Please count each stroke and thank me for it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am." With that she brought the leather down hard across his outstretched hand. He howled, "Oh My God!" He pulled his hand back. She waited for him to say "One, Thank you." And extend his hand again. Two through six brought the same reaction.

"Your level seven correction is now complete, unless you want more, Mr. O'Neall. Do you want another six?"

He was quick to shout, "No Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am. I have had enough, Ma'am. Please Ma'am. No more, Ma'am. Please Ma'am."

The nurse was at his side. "It's OK, Mr. O'Neall. Your punishment is over. That didn't take long. I just have to give some first aid before I get you down from there." She stroked his head. "See, I told you Mistress Jacobs is good at her job. I almost had to pause the proceedings because you were holding your breath. But then she had you sobbing and your oxygen saturation went right back up."

The nurse wiped his face with another towel. She put antiseptic cream on areas where his buttocks were abraded and two large bandages on places where the skin had broken open. She cleaned up the blood. Detaching him from the restraints, she said his disciplinary session was complete. He could use the sink in the room to rinse the soap out of his mouth, "You may use the towel to wipe out your mouth."

She led him to an adjacent room. The basket with his clothes was on the table. "You may dress, James. And please drink some of this water. Punishments are dehydrating. We are almost done."

"Why did you soap my mouth like that? It's awful."

"Mr. O'Neall, you brought that on yourself when you continued to swear. You were warned. It's alright. It happens often enough that I always prepare a bowl of water with soap in it. Boys shouldn't swear in our presence. We understand prayer. Phrases like 'Oh God' might be religious so we tolerate them. But we find words like the one you used to be intolerable."

"That was horrible, is horrible. I can't get it out of my mouth."

"Yes, yes, Mr. O'Neall." She put her arm around his shoulder. "I'm sure you will survive this too. When you get home brush your teeth with plenty of water. It will help." She left him to get dressed.

He touched his bottom. It was hard and uneven. The back of his legs just hurt. No matter how much he wiped out his mouth, he couldn't get rid of the soap. His lips and gums were raw. He dressed slowly. He kept his left hand flat against his chest as much as he could. Without thinking he sat to put on his socks and shoes. It was agony. He groaned. The door opened.

"Mr. O'Neall! Very few choose to sit down after severe correction! I am impressed." The receptionist came in carrying the tray with his wallet, phone and keys. "Delinquents usually stand while I do the exit interview. There is nothing in the manual that says you must stand, so you may remain seated."

Jim shifted in the wooden chair. There was no comfort to be found, but he stayed where he was because she said she was impressed.

"It appears you must have used some bad words, Mr. O'Neall. I can see the soap on your face. I thought you were more of a gentleman than that. I trust the soap cured you of swearing while here?"

"It was awful."

"There, there, Mr. O'Neall. Big boys learn to accept the consequences of their actions."

"I have a few questions for you. Did the overall experience meet your expectations?"

"It went way beyond any expectation I had."

"Oh, how so?"

"It was terrifying. It hurt way more than you can imagine."

"Oh, Mr. O'Neall, I work here. I do the exit interviews. I have a good idea about the level of pain involved. Wait until you come back for a judicial punishment!"

"I'm never coming back."

"That is so good to hear, Mr. O'Neall. It means we provided just the right correction for you. May I assume then you feel Mistress Jacobs did her job well?"

"Oh my God. I never want to meet that woman again."

The receptionist laughed. "Mr. O'Neall, Mistress Jacobs is a delightful person. I am sure you would like her if you got to know her."

"She did her job. That's all I want to know of her."

How was our greeting and preparation? Did you feel adequately prepared for your punishment session?"

"You and Nurse Lanette were both very kind and helpful. Without Nurse Lanette I don't think I would have made it through."

"If you send a thank you note, it will go in Nurse Lanette's personnel file. We don't get many of those from delinquents. We frequently receive them from clients. One last thing, Mr. O'Neall, the new chastity cage you have on needs to be checked weekly for the next month. Our client suggested Thursdays after work would be good for you. Say 7:15?"

"Just to check the cock cage?"

"No more correction, unless you want it. Sometimes delinquents become clients who contract for themselves. Mistress Jacobs does private sessions. She is one of our best. Here is a brochure on our many services. So, Thursday evening at 7:15?"

"Yes Ma'am."

Nurse Lanette escorted him to his car and handed him the water bottle. He had some difficulty getting in. His back was stiff. She waved as she went back to the building. He started his car. It was after 2:00.

He drove home on city streets, up Cicero Avenue. His whole body ached. His neck stiffened up on his drive. The seat warmer was helpful. After he parked, he stayed in the car for another twenty minutes drinking the water. It tasted of soap; it burned his mouth. He could feel it in his throat. Getting out of the car was not easy. He took the elevator up.

Exhausted, he lay face down on his bed and went to sleep. He woke when Jennifer came home that evening. She knocked at his door. He got up to open it.

"Poor dear, you look miserable. Was it difficult for you?"

"In a word, yes."

"They said you might be uncomfortable for a couple of days. That's why I asked for Friday. You have the weekend to recover. They also said it would be good to rehydrate. I brought you a Propel liter for you." He accepted the bottle from her.

"They also said you should not have alcohol or strong painkillers. Only aspirin to reduce swelling. Here is a bottle of 81mg. I brought home a 10 lb. bag of ice. When you are ready, they recommended an ice water sitz bath to promote healing."

"That does not sound like fun." He stood in the doorway holding the water bottle and the pills.

"It will be good for you. They said ice this evening, heat later."

"Jennifer, I am sorry for what I did. I have been punished enough. I don't want to sit in ice."

"James, I am concerned about you. I want what's best for you and for me. If ice will get you back to normal quicker, then we should do it."

The firmness of her voice drew a reluctant assent to an ice bath. He sat on his bed. His back hurt. She got the 10 lbs. of ice cubes from the freezer and dumped them in his tub along with a couple of inches of cold water. She told him to undress and get in. She left his room.

The bruising he saw in the mirror was way more extensive than he imagined. He was deep purple from near the top of his butt to halfway down his thighs. Jennifer never left bruising like that. He gently peeled the bandages from his skin and got into the tub. Lowering himself into ice water was excruciating. He lifted himself above the water every few minutes. His penis shriveled in its cage. He thought his scrotum might be frozen to its steel ring.

Twenty minutes later he got out and inspected his bottom some more. The places he bled were not as purple as the rest. After the ice bath the bleeding stopped and the bruising was more varied. He could see the full outline of the paddle in a couple of places on his thigh. There were small round marks left by the holes in the paddle everywhere.

He put on his robe and went back to out to the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich, but he couldn't taste it. He ate only half. "Jennifer, I'm going to bed," he called out.

She was watching the evening news. "Tomorrow morning, then. Have a good sleep."

He was awake before his alarm went off. The new chastity cage was more comfortable. His back hurt, like he had been lifting way too much weight. He had trouble bending. He felt his bottom. It was still hard and uneven, but not as painful. The soap was making its way through his digestive track. He could tell because his stomach gurgled. The taste of the soap lingered. He got up, brushed his teeth again, and dressed. Jennifer worked most Saturdays. He did not. He went to make coffee.

She smiled when he gave her the mug. "Back to normal, I see. That is good. Very good. Did the bath help?"

"I think it did. Thank you for the ice."

"I believe your instructions are to take another ice bath this morning. There is more ice in the freezer. Then heat, I purchased a new electric heat pad. It is on the counter over there."

He was silent. Finally, he said "OK." He saw only her blue eyes.

"James, we need to talk about the past week and where we go from here. I have cancelled my engagements for this evening. Perhaps you might have dinner ready at 7:00 for the two of us?"

He made a simple dinner of roast chicken and vegetables. He chilled a California Chardonnay from her wine collection for her to have with it. They ate together. He cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. It was difficult to lean over to fill the bottom rack. She invited him into the television room. "I need to review the video report they sent. I'd like us to do it together."

He had not thought about the video. They said they would send a video to her. But he didn't imagine actually watching it. He knew he lost it. He cried, and begged, and lost all dignity in the process. He was suddenly not sure he wanted her to see his breakdown. "Are you sure you want to watch this?"

"James, I have to sign off on your punishment. Otherwise they will have to do it all over. It's in the contract."

She sat on the sofa; he on three cushions at her feet. The video started with him being led into the chamber and strapped down. "The nurse looks gentle."

"She was wonderful. Without her I would not have survived."

"That's good. She is doing a thorough job!" A picture in picture popped up in one corner showing a close up of Jim's butt, then another of his face. The nurse rubbed lotion on the bottom in the picture. Jim heard her say it was "for resilience."

"I'm not sure that worked. My butt doesn't feel resilient today."

"Oh, I'm glad your sense of humor is back." Jennifer smiled. He looked up at her; he smiled back.

They watched Mistress Jacobs come into the room. Her heels clicked on the floor. They heard Jim's apology and request for another melt into cries and terror. For a while there was the near constant sound of the paddle striking flesh. His face twisted in pain. He begged and pleaded. Finally, he was sobbing. The close up of his face showed the tears streaming.

Jennifer put her hand on Jim's head. With each of his thirty-six apologies after the mouth soaping, Jennifer responded, "You are forgiven." But the howl from Jim on the video drown out her forgiveness. Soap foam covered his face. He drooled uncontrollably. He screamed his apologies. No dignity remaining, he looked broken.