When the governess had applied a dozen smart slaps, she stopped spanking, and leisurely inspected the sufferer’s bottom which looked very funny, the bright scarlet colour of the spanked cheek, contrasting strongly with the snow-like whiteness of the untouched cheek. Then she set to work on the white left cheek, giving it also a dozen sharp smacks, which made it match the other in colour. Dora was crying, and wriggling her bottom the whole time, but she did not scream.
“Now, miss; yon shall have twelve cuts with the birch,” said the governess, taking up the rod and making it whistle in the air over Dora’s red and smarting bottom. She turned her head round, and fixed her eyes, with an agonized look, on the threatening twigs, while the tears streamed down her cheeks. “Oh-h! Miss Martin,” she cried out in piteous tones: “Please don’t birch me! — Oh! please-don’t-whip me-any more. Oh! I-have-had enough. My bottom-is-burning. Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Swish! Swish! Swish! The birching was begun; each cut extracting a loud, shrill squeal from Dora, and making her twist about in anguish, while small purple weals rose in all directions on the red skin. Miss Martin birched away calmly: and I saw that she was well skilled in the use of the rod. She did not swing the birch high in the air, she merely raised her arm from the elbow, and laid on the cuts with a peculiar sort of “flicking” stroke from the wrist. She never struck twice in the same place; the cuts were all applied with the same degree of force, and she never allowed the ends of the twigs to curl over on to the side of the culprit’s bottom. The flogging was fairly administered from beginning to end.
Dora, throughout the birching, squealed and writhed; cried and plunged; and begged abjectly for mercy. But she was not let off a single cut. The governess threw down the rod, and unfastened the girl’s wrists and ankles; saying: “Do not attempt to pull down your petticoats, or to get up until I give you permission.”
She then went back to her chair and seated herself; leaving Dora lying on the chairs, crying and twisting her hips in pain; and with her wealed, scarlet bottom exposed. When her crying had died away to sobs, Miss Martin said: “Get up; come to me, and thank me for your punishment.”
Dora got on her feet; her cheeks were nearly as red as her bottom; the tears were running from her eyes, her lips were quivering, and her face was full of pain. She walked stiffly up to the governess, and sobbed out, in choking accents:
“Thank-you-for-the-whipping-yon-have-given
“Now, pick up the rod; kiss it, and put it away in the cabinet. Then dress, and go to your room.”
The girl picked up the rod, kissed it meekly, and returned it to its place in the cabinet. Then she drew on her drawers, put on her corset and dress, and slunk, still sobbing, out of the room.
I stepped from behind the curtains, and gave the governess an appreciative kiss, as I was much pleased with the way she had administered the chastisement. She smiled, saying: “Now you have seen how a governess can punish a naughty girl, morally as well as physically. Dora may soon forget the whipping, but she will remember the degradation she has undergone. In having been obliged to ask me to give her a whipping; then, having had to prepare herself for the punishment; then having been compelled to thank me for whipping her; and finally having been forced to kiss the rod. She is a saucy girl, but she is now thoroughly humbled; and I am certain that she will not need another whipping for a very long time.”
“You did the whole thing splendidly,” I said. “The way you spanked one side of her bottom, and then the other, amused me very much; and you applied the rod in a most skilful way. I had no idea that a whipping could be inflicted in such an artistic style.”
She laughed, and appeared to be highly delighted at my compliments, saying: “There is an art both in spanking and birching, as there is in everything else. I have had plenty of practice, and I flatter myself that I can whip a bottom with a fair amount of skill.”
“You can, indeed,” I remarked. Then I added: “Now, Kate, I want you to let me have a good look at your bottom.”
She smiled, and blushed slightly, but answered without hesitation: “Very well You may look at it.”
I made her lean well over the back of an easy-chair; then I turned her skirt, petticoats, and chemise up to her shoulders; and unfastening her drawers, let them slip down to her feet Then, with a stiff prick, and glistening eyes, I inspected her grand bottom, which swelled boldly out in high relief as if inviting a spanking.
I passed my hand over the creamy-white hemispheres of plump firm flesh; stroking them up and down; squeezing them, and playing with them in all sorts of ways, while she looked over her shoulder, smiling.
“You have a magnificent bottom, Kate,” I observed, pinching one of the cheeks with my finger and thumb.
“Yes, I believe I have rather a good one,” she said, thrusting her head round, and glancing down at her big posteriors.
“Will you let me spank you?” I asked.
She hesitated a moment; then said: “Yes. But not too hard.”
“All right, I won’t be too hard. Ill only raise a blush on the pretty white cheeks, and make them tingle a little.”
She braced herself up, stiffening the muscles of her bottom and thighs; and bending well over the chair. Then I began to spank her; and it was a very pleasing task. I laid on the smacks pretty smartly, my hand rebounding from her firm, elastic flesh; and in a very short time the great white half-moons had turned a rosy red, and she had begun to flinch under the hot slaps.
I stopped spanking; then unbuttoning my trousers, I let out my tool, intending to poke her “en levrette.” But when she saw me advancing-to the attack, she looked surprised, and was going to stand up. So, I said: “Don’t move, Kate. I am going to enjoy from behind.”
She gazed over her shoulder, with her large, hazel eyes wide open in utter astonishment-she had evidently never been poked “en levrette”-but she stood still. Taking hold of her massive thighs, I slightly separated them; then clasping my hands in front of her belly, I stooped a little, and thrust my prick between the lower part of the cheeks of her bottom, deeply into her cunt. I began to work vigorously, and she appeared to thoroughly enjoy the novel sensation of being poked from behind. She moved her loins backwards and forwards briskly to meet my digs, squeaking with pleasure; and when the discharge came, she received it with a quiver of voluptuous delight, wriggling her bottom furiously, and heaving a deep sigh of satisfaction.
When all was over, and she had fastened up her drawers, and I had buttoned up my trousers, we sat down on the sofa.
Glancing rather shyly at me, she said: “I have never been embraced in that way before. It quite astonished me. I had no idea there were more ways than one of doing it.”
“It can be done in many other ways, and I hope to show them all to you, in time,” I observed.
She laughed; her eyes gleamed, and her cheeks flushed. She was decidedly a voluptuous woman, and the thought of future pokes in strange positions, was evidently pleasing to her.
We had a short chat, then she rang for tea; and after we had refreshed ourselves with a cup, she sat down on the floor at my feet, coolly unbuttoned my trousers, and took out my limp prick, which she began to handle in a skilful manner. She was up to that trick! When she had got my tool ready for action, she laughed and looked up in my face, her eyes shining with a sensuous expression of desire. I said: “Now, I’ll show you another way of doing it. Stand up with your back towards me.” She instantly rose to her feet and placed herself in the required position, laughing and looking over her shoulder.
“Pull open the slit of your drawers as widely as possible, and then hold your petticoats well above your waist.” She did so: and as soon as the big semi-globes of her bottom-still pink from the spanking-were fairly exposed, I drew her close up to my knees, and made her lower her bottom down upon my upstanding prick, which I guided with my fingers into its proper place, until the weapon was up to the hilt in the sheath. Then I told her to move herself up and down on the “dart,” and she did so, while I gently worked my loins; so, in a short time, the affair was finished; and she had been again poked in a new position, much to her amusement and satisfaction. She remarked, as she lay back against my breast: