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When she was alone, Mabel believed she would stifle with rage, humiliation and despair. But what could she do? There she was, with her hands tied behind her back, kneeling like the most abject of slaves. She felt, all along her body, the corset that squeezed her under her skirt, and her legs and thighs were likewise imprisoned. These terrible stays were cutting into her skin and the too narrow panties, made narrower still by the leather strap, bit into her tender flesh.

She was about to cry and sob to calm her despair. Then she thought about the two different whips in front of her eyes, which seemed to have eyes of their own to witness her undignified position, and also the three photographs or her domineering mistress which fascinated her with the gleaming expression of her steely-grey eyes and with the sensual power of her beautiful body.

Her physical need tortured her. The thought that she would not be able to satisfy it without Bridget's permission was driving her crazy. She was about to let go and drop everything in her panties, but the shame and the fear of the punishment obliged her to control herself.

It seemed impossible that so many obligations and constraints should not bring Mabel to rebellion. The girl gnashed her teeth and her eyes were brimful of tears. It was too much — better be dead than reduced to such an abject state.

Thus an hour passed, an awful hour which saw now the despair now the revolt of the poor girl.

Then Bridget came in. She had a mocking expression on her face and she walked up to her victim in a wiggling movement.

"Well slave, still have your need?" she asked.

Her assurance and haughtiness were stronger than Mabel's pride.

"Yes, Your Ladyship," she said, casting down her eyes.

"And, no doubt, you would like me to take you to the toilet?"

"Yea, Your Ladyship'"

"Maybe," Bridget said with cruelty, "we'll see if you deserve it. Get up!"

Painfully, the girl stood up.

"You haven't wetted your drawers, have you?" the maid asked.

"No, Your Ladyship."

"We shall see."

With slow movements, Bridget lifted Mabel's skirt and cami-knickers. She undid the strap in front. Then she crouched down and inspected with care the girl's drawers at the precise spot in which her femininity was slightly bulging under the adhering material. The maid, with malicious pleasure, even put her hand to it, palpating the fruit of love a long while to make perfectly sure there was no dampness. Mabel's shame was immense to feel herself being touched thus without her being able to prevent it.

At last Bridget appeared satisfied with her check.

"All right," she said, "you've been a good girl. Walk in front of me!"

She had taken a horsewhip with her and gave little strokes with in on the girls calves to make her walk more quickly. She made her go into the water closet and locked herself up with her. There, she again lifted up the skirt and underskirt of her captive and untied her hands.

"Down with your panties!" she ordered, "undo them."

That was not easy at all, for Mabel had the forty buttons which tied her drawers to hooks on her stays. In spite of her haste, she was given a violent stroke of the whip on her breasts to punish her for being too slow.

Having at last taken off her panties, the girl had then to hold up her skirts and sit on the seat under the mocking eyes of Bridget who wait watching every one of her moves. Awfully mortified, the poor slave had to relieve herself and let a few incongruous noises escape, which made the maid burst out laughing.

"Now, wipe yourself up!" Bridget ordered. "And do it well, for you'll have to show me your arse before putting on your panties!"

Showing her anus!.. Would no humiliation be spared her? She had to drink the bitter cup to the lees.

With her skirts held high up she had to bend down towards Bridget and draw her buttocks apart to let the maid inspect her most intimate parts at leisure.

"All right, you may button yourself up!"

The discipline drawers were put on again and fixed with the forty white buttons, then, on top of them, the cruel strap.

"You know what," Bridget said with a smile, "it's a pity I don't feel like it, or else I would have obliged you to wipe me up. That's what you will soon do, I can tell you, for you're my slave and I can do what I jolly well please with you, can't I?"

She tied Mabel's hands behind her back so tightly that it hurt the girl's delicate wrists.

Outside the toilet, she gave an ultimate humiliation to her slave.

"Kneel down before me," she ordered. "Thank me and kiss my feet."

Mabel hesitated a second but a powerful pair of slaps made her obey. She humbly kissed the maid's feet and murmured:

"I thank Your Ladyship for Her having accompanied me to the toilet.'"

Satisfied, Bridget ordered her to stand and walked back with her to her room. Then she knocked on the door of the neighbouring room and reported everything to the governess.

"Very good, Bridget, I thank you," Dorothea said. "Mabel's schedule now indicates an hour's walk before lunch, you will accompany her. Lift up her skirts to her waist and fix them with safety-pins, so that you can lash her bottom if she doesn't obey you. Fix a leash to the hook that maintains the strap in the back, and so you can walk her before you without untying her hands. Make her walk erect, with head very high and her breasts thrust forward. And make her run a little to teach her to get used to her boots."

"Yea, ma'am, thank you," Bridget answered joyously.

Mabel had heard all that with dismay. She trembled at the thought of being given again to the cruel servant as a toy.

Five minutes later she was in the park, with her skirts lifted up high, exposing her bottom shrouded in clinging silk and strapped with the wide leather tape. Bridget was walking behind her, holding her on a leash fixed to the back hook of her corset. Almost uninterruptedly she lashed her with light strokes and gave her orders:

"Hold your head high and your body erect! Better than that, slave! Thrust forward your teats! And your bottom backwards, offer it well to my whip! Draw in your belly! Stare right in front of you, straighten your neck! You little bitch, I'll teach you how to walk!"

With tears in her eyes the poor girl tried her best to obey. She was completely tamed, vanquished by this very tiring walk. Thus she covered the shaded walks of the park without heeding the blessed song of the birds in the sun-mottled foliage. Her imprisoned feet hurt her terribly, rolling on the gravel of the walks, and she almost twisted her ankles at every step, so high were her heels. It became worse when, Bridget, with violent whiplashes, obliged her to run. Whipped furiously, Mabel made superhuman efforts, tripping very often and tortured by her stays which drove into her skin.

"Stop!" Bridget cried at last.

The maid, tired from the long run, wanted a rest. She saw a good spot of mossy grass in the shadow of a large tree and sat down on it with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Lie down at my feet, slave!" she ordered.

The girl obeyed with gusto, being happy to rest her weary limbs. Bridget, sitting at a slightly higher level, had drawn her knees inwards and hitched up her own skirt, thus affording the sight of her undies. Mabel glanced at the fat white thighs of the maid, with the black satin garters and the clinging pale silk panties, perhaps the same which had served to gag Mabel the other day!

"Well," Bridget said suddenly, "why are you staring at my skirts? In my bottom fascinating you? You see, it's still bigger then yours, but then mine is that of a free woman that has never been whipped and never will be! Now, kiss it, I allow you to!"

Mabel, revolted at this suggestion, stood up abruptly in spite of her new spirit of submission. Never, oh, never, would she stoop so low!

But Bridget, furious, lashed her cruelly and the stroke caught her on the dainty tips of her breasts. The girl howled with pain.