"That will do," she said, contemplating my jerking helpless figure with undisguised contempt. "Your education is complete."
She helped me down, removing the straps from my thighs, and unfastening my legs and hands. She took the glove from my lips and wiped my hot face. She gave me a glass of champagne, and then, with a disdainful smack on my bottom, she said: "Now take your pretty feet back to the drawing room."
Ashamed, I curtsied low to her and went out of the room. But the venom was in my veins. As I walked down the stairs, the rustle of my frock, the feel of it clinging delicately about my ankles, the lightness of my slippers, and the sensation of high slender heels all ravished me. Yes, I wanted to be kept in subjection as a beautifully dressed girl. Forever.
I entered the drawing room where I found Violet alone, reading a novel in an armchair. How pretty she looked in her frock of Ninon de soie, and her little slippers! Oh, the venom was in my veins. For the moment, I saw her as young and pretty and dainty, yet I longed to be punished by her. Miss. Priscilla had accomplished her aim.
"You have been a long time," Violet said peevishly. "I have been here alone and it has been very dull."
She was annoyed. I smiled and blushed.
"What has Miss. Priscilla been saying to you?" Here was my chance and I took it.
I flung myself into a chair, crossed my knees and swung a satin-slippered foot indolently to and fro.
"You must find out, my pretty one," I said.
Her eyes flashed dangerously.
"Don't be impertinent, Denise. And uncross your legs at once! Put your heels together and turn your toes out and answer me."
I swung my foot more violently.
"I warn you, Denise," she said violently.
I began to unbutton a glove with an impertinent smile.
"Very well. It is your fault, Denise. Go and fetch me a cane."
She sat up sternly.
"A cane?"
I was horrified. I had not meant to provoke her to inflicting so severe a punishment. My legs already pained me horribly. I wanted no more whipping.
"You will find one in the punishment room. Bring it here and be quick!"
My face clouded over.
"Oh, Violet!" I begged, falling at her feet.
"It's too late to plead for mercy. Be quick," she said.
Reluctantly I rose and fetched a cane. Oh, I had been a fool to provoke her.
"Hold out your hands straight from the shoulder, one on each side. Your feet prettily in position." And then without hesitation, Violet brought down the cane on each of my outstretched hand.
"I'll teach you to be impertinent, Denise," Violet was furious, her pretty face convulsed with rage.
"Oh that's enough, Violet," I wept.
"Not nearly," Violet laughed triumphantly. "This will teach you to obey me in the future." She brought the cane down again and again. My breasts heaved with passion for the little tyrant. I loved my little torturess.
"Oh, Violet, I will, I will," I sobbed.
"Oh you will," she cried. "Don't rub your knees together, you naughty thing. Stand quite still, Miss. High Heels."
She flung the cane down, after she had pleased herself with the torments. "Your hands behind you," she commanded me.
She fetched two thin white cords of silk. And while I stood with my bare shoulders shaking with sobs, my pretty love bound my hands together with savage cruelty.
"Now kneel on the sofa."
She raised my skirts to help me, then she brutally pushed me down.
"Perhaps you will put your pretty feet and ankles together now."
She tied my ankles, my high heels and my insteps tightly together. Then she said, "Lean over the back of the sofa."
"Oh you are not going to cane me again."
"No, I am not going to cane you, Denise," she said sternly, as she turned back my pretty frock and took my drawers down to my knees. "I am going to birch you-do you understand, pretty fool? I am going to birch your tender white flesh," and she pinched my bottom with her fingers. "I am going to cover it with red stripes and wheals."
"Oh, Violet."
"Silence."
She ran quickly into the punishment room and came out again with a terrible birch.
"Oh, Violet, you couldn't be so cruel!" Of course, I was hoping beyond hope that she was.
She ran lightly over to me in her satin slippers. Oh, a girl so pretty and so young couldn't mean to punish me so severely for so trivial a fault. It was too good to be true.
"Bend well over," she said, flourishing the birch. She made it whistle in the air. I was helpless.
"Oh, Violet, if you must birch me, please lock the door first and gag my mouth. I know I shall scream, and it would be so disgraceful to be seen tied hand and foot in my dinner dress being birched by a girl younger than myself," I said piteously.
"You don't deserve it, Denise," she said. "But I love you, darling, so I will spare you unnecessary humiliation."
She went and locked the door. Then she carefully gagged my mouth. She stole a delightful moment in which she fondled my breasts freely. She pinched my nipples and lightly slapped my bosom. I felt my cock stir from the pleasure.
"I am sorry, Denise, but you must be soundly birched," she said and took her place. How cold the air was on my naked flesh, how shameful my position!
The twigs whistled through the air and slashed my tender flesh. I would have shrieked at the first stroke, had my mouth not been gagged. My bottom was already so tender.
"Is this your first birching, Denise?"
I nodded my head.
"A virgin bottom! That makes it more delicious to punish." She was like a young fury. "Fancy violating your bottom, darling. A regular rape isn't it?" she cried gleefully, and again the twigs fell. I twisted and writhed, my bottom danced and flinched, the tears streamed down my face. "The fat pretty soft thing is already striped with red, dearest, but you shall have a purple bottom before I am done with you." Her strength seemed to increase with each stroke. "A purple moon of a bottom to show to your friends!" she laughed. "There's still a little white place here, and another here." She flogged me daintily, carefully, never breaking the skin, but making it swell, covering it with bruises and wheals. And then once more my sobs began to diminish. Suddenly, I ceased to feel the pain. As I leaned over the sofa, I surreptitiously rubbed my aching cock against the bolster. Violet was giving me such pleasure, such pain, that I simply had to rub myself against the couch. The friction on my genitals stimulated me even more!
Violet finished.
"Now to wind up properly, I will give you six strokes with the cane across the thin soles of your pretty slippers." I could not protest, but I jerked and writhed in my sweet bondage. Violet took up the cane.
"I won't tear the slippers. I'll keep to the soles, you pretty vain creature! I know your vanity was troubled lest I should spoil your dainty shoes!"
At last she untied my feet and took the gag from my mouth. She led me to a mirror, and holding up my dress, for my wrists were still tied behind my back, she showed me my posterior. What a dreadful condition I was in. A few minutes before it had been white and pretty; now it was a discoloured ugly thing with black patches of congealed blood and purple stripes. It felt dreadfully heavy too, and the pain tortured me.
"Oh, Violet," I exclaimed piteously. "How could you spoil it!"
"It was good for you to have it spoiled," she said. She rubbed it gently, the sight obviously pleasing her. Clearly, she liked to dominate me, too! Oh, how had I become so lucky?
After admiring her handy work, she fixed my drawers, readjusted my dress, and put her arms round my waist. Her anger was all gone. She looked at my piteous face with gentle eyes. She dried my eyes affectionately.