The Bottom Line (16 page)

‘Unfortunately,' said Sir Rodney, ‘we had an unpleasant episode some years ago when the signatory refused to sign the document after the punishment had been completed, so we now require all signatures in advance, just in case you should feel like changing your mind.'

Adrienne read the paper more thoroughly. It stated that she had received her punishment, that it had been a fair and just one, that she had been chaperoned throughout the proceedings and that no impropriety of any kind had taken place.

‘I don't really have any choice, do I?' she stated. ‘Not if I want to keep my job.'

I agreed that she had no choice at all, whereupon she signed both copies and handed them back to Sir Rodney. He gave me one copy of each sheet of paper, which I folded and placed inside my bag. Then he turned to Adrienne.

‘From now on,' he told her, ‘you will do exactly what I tell you. You may terminate the punishment at any time, but you will be dismissed if you do so and you will have no redress under employment law.'

‘Yes,' Adrienne said, rather wearily, ‘I know all about that. Audrey, I mean Mrs Tempest, explained everything to me. Can we please get on with it?'

‘Very well, Adrienne,' Sir Rodney agreed, ‘we will do just that. Will you please go behind that screen and undress? You will find a dressing gown there which you may put on if you wish.'

‘Undress?' Adrienne echoed. ‘Nobody said anything about undressing. What is this anyway, some kind of kinky sex scene?'

‘It most certainly is no such thing,' snapped Sir Rodney, his patience beginning to wear thin. ‘You are here to try to save your job, and you can save your job by accepting a punishment that will make you far more careful in the future not to let your tongue run away with you. Now will you please go and undress, since you wish to get on with it, as you put it. Unless, of course, you wish to accept your notice of dismissal.'

‘Oh, no,' Adrienne gabbled, ‘I can't afford to be dismissed. It's just that I hadn't realised you would expect me to strip. And it does sound a little strange, you must agree.'

‘You are being asked to strip for your own protection,' explained Sir Rodney. ‘If you are beaten through your clothes nobody can see how much damage has been inflicted, whereas without your clothes on we can see exactly what the result of your punishment is.'

Adrienne took in this information and considered it. ‘All right, then,' she said at length, ‘I'll play your little game, but it still sounds a bit kinky to me,' with which words she moved behind the screen, emerging a few moments later in my dressing gown, tightly knotted round the waist.

‘Come to the table,' Sir Rodney instructed her, signalling with his eyes that I should join them. As we examined the range of implements he turned to me and told me to take my preferred one, knowing in advance that I would choose a fairly light tawse with a split tongue. Then he marched Adrienne to the whipping triangle and told her where to stand.

‘Feet well apart,' he ordered, ‘and resting on the base of the triangle, with your hands above your head and gripping the sides of the triangle.'

She moved to take up position but Sir Rodney stopped her. ‘I think you seem to have forgotten something,' he said, glancing at the dressing ¬gown, and without a word she unfastened the knot, slipped the gown from her shoulders and took up the recommended position. Her body was quite slim, her breasts firm though of modest proportions, but her bottom was quite chubby and pert, and I knew I would enjoy making it turn pink and then red, before the serious work began.

‘I should prefer not to have to secure you to the frame,' Sir Rodney told her, ‘but part of the punishment is to receive it without trying to protect yourself, without covering up and, most of all, without trying to move away from the frame. Do I make myself clear?'

‘Perfectly clear,' said Adrienne, less cockily now the moment was upon her.

‘Over to you, Mrs Tempest,' Sir Rodney said. ‘I think twenty strokes should be enough.'

‘Twenty strokes?' squealed Adrienne. ‘You're not giving me twenty strokes.'

‘Please do be quiet,' she was told, ‘or we'll have to consider gagging you. And once the punishment begins, remember that you are to remain as still as you possibly can. If you are unable to remain still we may have to secure you for your own safety.' And once more he used his eyes to signal to me. I moved back and tested the tawse through the air, then laid it across Adrienne's bottom.

Without warning I drew back my arm and struck, not very hard, but hard enough to draw from her an involuntary hiss. I gave her three similar strokes, more or less on the same level, all of which she took in silence. Then I shifted position slightly and struck lower down and slightly harder. This time the hiss became a screech, but to her credit she managed to remain in position. Another three strokes followed and then I moved again and lashed the tawse across the crease where her buttocks and thighs met. The screech was louder this time and her toes danced a little jig on the base of the triangle. As soon as she settled I struck again, once more on the crease and this time much harder - hard enough for her to shriek and lower a comforting hand to her poor bottom.

Sir Rodney began to caution her, but she quickly resumed the punishment position. I moved backwards and sideways, transferring the tawse to my other hand. Then I began to strike from the other side and at a slightly different angle, so that the new strokes landed across the line of the earlier ones. I repeated the first pattern of four strokes in one position, four lower down and two across the crease, pausing after every pair of strokes to give Adrienne time to prepare for the next brace.

After twenty I told her she could step down. She did so, and reached miserably for the dressing gown.

‘You took that very well, Adrienne,' I told her. ‘You may have five minutes' rest now, if you wish to.'

‘Five minutes' rest?' she echoed, panting slightly. ‘What do you mean? I've had my punishment so why do I need five minutes' rest? Why can't I get dressed and get out of this hole?'

‘Because, young lady,' Sir Rodney informed her, ‘you have received only the first part of your punishment.'

‘The first part?' she shrieked. ‘I've been punished and I took it well. Why can't I go now?'

‘I think we can avoid the repetition,' Sir Rodney suggested. ‘The punishment so far has been a warming up exercise. The serious punishment is to come. You surely can't expect us to believe that a fairly light tawsing will turn you into a model citizen, can you?'

‘I've learnt my lesson,' she protested. ‘I promise you, I shan't make the same mistake again if you just let me go now.'

‘I'm sure you won't,' Sir Rodney agreed with her, ‘but we have to be absolutely certain so now, if you'll be so good, please resume your position.'

Without a word she obeyed, glumly, and our employer returned to the table, picked up two or three canes in turn, swished each one through the air and finally selected one, about two feet long and fairly thin, with a tightly curving handle. Then he turned back to Adrienne.

‘This time you will have to be tethered,' he informed her. ‘You will take six strokes and every one will be severe. You are almost certainly about to be punished in a way that is beyond your experience, and perhaps even beyond your comprehension. You have displayed a somewhat frivolous attitude to these proceedings so far - but I do not think you will manage to maintain that attitude.'

As he addressed her I was securing her ankles and wrists to the triangle, using some velcro straps Beaumont had manufactured specially for such occasions.

‘The Chinese used to use the cane as an instrument of punishment,' he told her, ‘often with very serious, occasionally even fatal, results. Even today, in some countries in the Far East, the judicious use of the cane is allowed as a punishment for certain categories of offence. I'm told it scars both physically and mentally.'

‘Oh, please...' Adrienne began, but the plea turned to a sob and faded away.

‘Just so,' observed Sir Rodney, ‘but you need have no fears. You will leave here with a very sore bottom that will certainly be bruised and possibly bleeding, but there will be no permanent damage and the pain level will be no higher than a fit young lady can endure. On the other hand, it should certainly cure you of your flippant and disrespectful tongue.'

He stood back, swished the cane through the air again, and then rested it across her bottom before tapping lightly with it. There was no warning of when the first blow would fall, but Sir Rodney's arm was a blur as the cane was withdrawn and then applied with considerable force and expertise. Adrienne screamed and jerked violently, and had she not been secured to the triangle she would certainly have crumpled to the floor. A pale stripe appeared across the line of impact, and then darkened as the blood rushed back to the injured surface.

The next stroke was delivered parallel to the first and slightly lower. Again Adrienne screamed but it quickly blended into sobbing. The first stripe was already purpling as the second stripe appeared, and there were bruises where the blood vessels had broken just beneath the skin. A third stroke followed, then a fourth and a fifth. The aim was perfect each time and Adrienne now had five stripes running parallel across her bottom. She was sobbing uncontrollably and the screaming had stopped, but I knew it would resume shortly.

Sir Rodney adjusted his stance, laid the cane gently across her bottom again so that it crossed the five stripes, gave one or two practice taps and then struck viciously, the cane landing diagonally across the other wounds. The wail this time was piercing and the jerking motion enough to loosen one of Adrienne's wrist straps, allowing her to clutch her bottom with one pathetic hand.

The first five strokes had all left a pale stripe with darkening edges, mottled bruises at various points and now, where the final stroke had crossed the earlier ones, the skin was broken in several places. Sir Rodney moved as if to unfasten her, but I motioned him not to, and instead took a jar of cream from my bag and began to apply it to her wounds. As I did so I was conscious of that deliciously moist feeling in my knickers as my excitement rose almost beyond control. I concentrated on the task and smoothed the cream into the tortured flesh, wondering, despite myself, what it would be like to slip my hand between her thighs and see whether she, too, was moist and aroused despite her ordeal.

Ten minutes later and with considerable help she was dressed again, and leaning heavily on Sir Rodney as she shuffled painfully across the room, disappeared through the door and into the lift. I returned the faithful implements to the table, did what little tidying up had to be done, picked up my dressing gown and moved behind the screen. I knew Rodney would give me several minutes to prepare myself, and I reflected on similar occasions in the past and allowed myself to anticipate what would happen on this occasion.

I would strip naked except for my bra, which my master liked me to leave on initially. Then I would put on my dressing gown and walk over to the triangle, perhaps taking with me a slim paddle, just in case. And then I would await Rodney's return.

Punctilious to the last, he would first of all reassure me that Adrienne had shown him where the keys to her flat were, had been safely placed in a taxi, and that she had recovered sufficiently for him to allow her to return home, with the note I had tucked into the pocket of her coat, unseen by her, reminding her that she was to report for work the following Wednesday. Then he would turn his attention to me.

I would strip off my dressing gown and lean my back against the webbing, facing Rodney while he secured my wrists and ankles to the wooden frame, my legs stretched as wide as possible. Then he would undress, not slowly but deliberately, his eyes on me all the time as he did so. I knew he would need to pull his trunks well forward in order to be able to ease them down over his erection because his cock, when erect, was quite magnificent in both stature and performance.

It would be very hard and would have grown to its full length. He would ease it into me slowly at first and I would moan as though in pain as, inch by inch, he thrust the whole of that length inside me. There would be no preliminaries at this stage, but once he was fully embedded the teasing would begin.

It was not just the length of Rodney's cock that was so amazing, it was also his stamina. I knew he could easily fuck me for twenty minutes, perhaps half an hour, without reaching his own climax, while I would already be enjoying my first orgasm by the time he'd fully penetrated me.

Then he would play with me, feeling my breasts and pinching my erect nipples through the sheer fabric, running his hands up the insides of my thighs, reaching round to squeeze my bottom, parting my buttocks to slip a lubricated finger into my anus. And while he was squeezing my breasts and fingering my bottom he would kiss me, gently at first, tender baby kisses on my moist lips, but eventually using his tongue to force my lips apart, thrusting his violently to and fro inside my mouth in a fucking motion.

Finally he would seize the underside of my bra and rip it upwards, exposing my breasts and reaching for the paddle as he did so. By now I would have enjoyed three or four orgasms but they would be as nothing compared with what was to come. Seizing one nipple between thumb and forefinger and pulling the breast upward, he would begin to paddle the soft underside. His stiff cock, hard up inside me, would stiffen even more. Then he would pinch the other nipple and treat that breast to a similar paddling, but by this time his movements would be growing more frenzied and he'd cast the paddle aside. And now Rodney would be fucking me so hard I would feel as though I were being split in two, with each half of me reaching a tumultuous climax.