"Would you like to try, girls?" said Mistress.
"You may each take a tuft from both Sylvia and
Laura." The domestics sprang like cats off the couch. Stacy knelt before Sylvia and was handed the pliers by Mistress.
"No, Stacy," said Mistress. "You haven't got a large enough tuft there. Take more. That's it. Now hold her thigh so she doesn't pull forward with the hair, and pull it straight out… that's it. Good,
Stacy! Now show it to her so she can see what you took. Always show a female what she's lost,"
The three happily took their turns and returned, excitedly, to their couch. Mistress unchained
Sylvia and marched her to the heavy wooden rack at the east end of the room. Sylvia had to be helped to walk because of her wounded feet and she winced and gasped despite Mistress' supporting arms.
"Stacy, dear, you may help me stretch Sylvia on the rack." Stacy squealed in delight and her two friends pouted in disappointment.
Though Sylvia was nineteen, she looked so much younger stretched tightly between the two mas- sive wooden rollers. In such bondage, a female's legs and thighs are made slimmer by the strain, and even the fullest of breasts become nearly flat- tened and taut. Sylvia looked very young, and very vulnerable. Mistress turned the ratchet wheel to number three position and Sylvia became tight as a bowstring.
"We'll take her to number six, Stacy," instruct- ed Mistress. "You may turn the wheel to four now." Stacy turned the ratchet and the device squeaked and rasped as it met resistance from its occupant. Sylvia cried out nicely. Mistress took her turn, and pulled Sylvia to number five. The girl's eyes watered and her body arched slightly under the terrible strain.
"Take her to six," said Mistress. Stacy's heart was pounding in excitement as she turned the wheel. Sylvia's lithe body was now touching the tabletop only at her buttocks, and her shoulders were red and flushed from the torturous stretch- ing. Her scream was more of a wail.
"Ohhh, it hurts terribly," she sobbed. "Oh, God,
I'll never be bad again. I'll be a good girl, I' promise!"
"Excellent, Sylvia," praised Mistress. "That's what we like to hear from reform women. It's the whole purpose of the thing. Thank you for your help, Stacy. We leave her here now, for perhaps half an hour. You may return to the couch. Trish and Dania, your turn with Laura now. I haven't forgotten you, dears."
Laura still remained in her ceiling chains, a posi- tion most perfect for her next punishment.
"Here," said Mistress, "is a darning needle for each of you. You may put one through each of
Laura's nipples. I'll instruct you."
Trish chose the left, and Dania the right.
"One at a time now. Trish, you may go first.
Take the nipple in your thumb and forefinger and pull it out a little… that's it… now put the needle through from right to left… no, back a little further, dear, at the base of the nipple… that's it… now straight through, slowly, but firmly… all the way through so that there is about two equal inches of needle on both sides sticking out… good… good… perfect. Thank you, Trish."
"Oh, owww," gasped Laura. Her face held a look of surprise, not from the sharp pain, but from the realization of what had been done to her. Dania followed suit and matched Trish's efficiency.
I.aura let her face fall to one shoulder in complete penitence and submission, the needles glistening under the room lights.
Mistress suggested now a rather moderate recess, during which she joined her husband in his chair. Her sophistication was enviable, and most apparent, by this intelligent refrain from continued punishment activity. After all, why not enjoy the lovely sight before her eyes? There was Sylvia,
young, naked, and stretched beautifully on her rack. And Laura, pretty family woman, slumped sensually in her chains, her nipples quivering and pierced by shiny long needles. Such pleasantries to the eyes came only monthly and they were not to
– be wasted. There are those travelers who spend se much time taking photos and slides on vacation that they do not enjoy the scenery. So it is with attractive females in bondage. One is foolish to punish constantly, and become so involved in it, that one does not have time to step back and enjoy the fruits of the labor. Mistress was well aware of this, and often sat and enjoyed the visions which she created.
Too, the sophistication of Master and Mistress prevented them from disporting themselves in an unseemly manner when they sat together to enjoy the sights in the reform room. Naturally, both were aroused, but their dignity would prevent any sex- ual conduct at this time. On the other hand, the domestics were not yet mature enough to conduct themselves with reservation, and such visual re- cesses normally resulted in some kissing and fon- dling among them. Mistress glanced at her three maids, Trish sitting on Stacy's lap and necking, blouses lowered and breasts out, fingers probing delicately into moist panties. Mistress allowed such conduct among them, in understanding. They were quite young, and it would be unfair to expect them to be reserved.
The wheel was an interesting device, to say the least. It was large, and of oak, similar to a large telephone cable spool. It was supported by iron stands and its bottom cleared the floor by three feet. It revolved by an electric motor, and was designed for two females of average height. Face down, two females would fit perfectly around the wheel's circumference if their heads were placed well up between each other's legs. Sylvia and
Laura were so placed, their bodies in perfect semi- circles, their faces hidden between the fine thighs of each other, their buttocks perfectly upraised for punishment. It would not be a whip, but an official old English cane.
"When the wheel begins to turn you round and round," said Mistress, "begin licking pussy, please. As each of you turn and reach my position I will apply one cane stroke to your buttocks. You are required to lick and tongue during the entire time. You may break your sexual activity only to howl upon the cane stroke, but you must immedi- ately go back to your task. If you do not, this reform will last ten minutes rather than five."
Laura started to protest. "Please… I'm not… that way… I…" She knew it was useless, and resigned herself to her fate. The wheel began to rotate upon the touching of a wall button by Mis- tress. Laura and Sylvia began to revolve slowly.
Sylvia, of bi-orientation, immediately began her attack on Laura's sex, producing a sudden gasp from her older partner. Laura, in utter resignation and shame, probed gently with the tip of her tongue. She was first to reach the caning position.
The sound of a cane is much different than a whip. It is not a sharp retort, but more of a horrible splat. Laura howled like a wolf at full moon, and a distinct welt rose quickly upon her bottom-cheeks.
Like a dog driven by a whip she plunged her tongue into Sylvia, provoking a squeal from the girl.
The caning was more audible than visual in its pleasures. Certainly, there were the ever-increasing welts and streaks to see. But audibly, it was a banquet. There was the age-old, and well-familiar sound of cane against female buttocks, a noise which had not changed in centuries. This magnifi- cence was followed by various articulations from the female throat, also little changed from any time period or language. Scream, cry, yowl, moan.
It needed no exact description. A female in ancient
Rome or medieval England sounded no different than Laura or Sylvia.
Additionally, there was the ever-obvious sound of one female ministering by mouth and tongue to the sex of another. This became more and more pronounced as natural wetness increased in physi- cal response, and while the cane stroke and the accompanying cry of hurt lasted only briefly, the sounds of wet mouthings were nearly continuous.