Discipline of the Private House (30 page)

Yes, please, Olena thought; I'd like him to look at me. There should be witnesses to my shame and degradation.

It occurred to Olena, as she arched her back downwards so that her bottom was presented to Nicole, that something had changed since the previous day. It wasn't that she felt any less embarrassed: she was acutely aware that the position she had placed herself in was obscene, and that to be punished in front of a male slave would be almost unbearably humiliating. But she felt less troubled than she had when Barat and Master Robert had spanked her; in fact she felt happier than she had - well, for as long as she could remember. It was very strange. What had happened to bring about this alteration? The only thing she could think of was that she had spent the night with Jem - and Jem had given her the gift of reaching a climax, and had told her that she should embrace and nurture her shame as it would add to her pleasure.

She felt a hand stroking her cheek, and realised that she had closed her eyes and slipped into a reverie about Jem. She blinked, and found Nicole standing in front of her.

In Nicole's hands was an assortment of implements: a thin cane, two leather straps of different widths, and a strip of wood, thin but wide, which was set into a handle. 'I'm going to start on your bottom,' Nicole said. 'Which one of these would you like me to use first?'

Just looking at the implements caused a surge of longing to swell in Olena's insides. She felt the warm, trickling sensation in her loins that she now knew indicated that she was producing more of the shameful liquid evidence of her desire and sinfulness. She wanted urgently to feel the stinging fire of retribution and correction on her backside.

'What's this one?' she asked, pointing to the fiat length of wood.

T call it a paddle,' Nicole said, 'because it resembles something you might,use in a boat. But a lot smaller.' She giggled. Til start with that, shall I?'

Olena thought the paddle looked flimsy. 'Will it sting?' she asked.

'Let's see, shall we?' Nicole replied. She walked round the chaise longue, and with hardly a murmur of warning the paddle landed with a loud slap across Olena's bottom. Olena cried out and jerked upright: the pain stung like three cane-strokes all at once but, Olena realised, there was less residual smarting than with a cane, and a more diffuse warming sensation. She was becoming a connoisseur of spankings! The paddle, she thought, would give her the immediate, acute punishment she craved, and would efficiently bring to her bottom the heated glow to which she was becoming accustomed.

She hollowed her back again and rested the bottom of her ribcage against the back of the couch. 'Mmm, yes,' she said. 'Please use the paddle.'

But instead of a second searing stroke, Olena felt Nicole's fingers delicately probing her secret places. She trembled as the touches caused more pangs of desire in her loins.

'Keep still,' Nicole said. 'I'm only inspecting your little fleecy purse. I've inspected you here before, haven't I? So keep still.'

Olena hung her head. She was already blushing, because she knew what Nicole would find. She could feel the juices seeping from inside her, and cooling on her soft skin.

'Your little purse is leaking already,' Nicole said. 'All along the split. And when I open up the split a little, and put a finger inside - Aha! There is nothing but wetness inside. Olena, you really are a very naughty girl.'

'I know,' Olena sobbed. 'Please smack me hard.'

'In a minute,' Nicole said. 'First, we must get you clean. Bernard! Come here.'

As Olena looked towards the kneeling slave he lifted his head. Their eyes met. He smiled, and tentatively Olena smiled back. His gaze slid to her breasts, swelling magnificently over the back of the chaise longue. His smile widened, and he began to shuffle on his knees to join Nicole on the other side of the couch.

'Pay attention, Bernard,' Olena heard Nicole say. 'Olena needs to be punished thoroughly. She'll need to be smacked several times, so you will probably have an opportunity to use your strong right arm before the morning's out. Do you see how round and big and smooth her buttocks are?'

Olena felt Nicole's cool hands stroking the flesh that was about to be chastised.

'Yes, miss,' Bernard said.

Tf you look closely, Bernard, you can just make out a few fading marks. You see - here, and here? She was given a good strapping yesterday. Olena is to be punished every day until she learns some self-control. It's easy to see how little self-discipline she has.'

Olena felt Nicole's fingers once again touching her most intimate parts. And the slave, Bernard, was watching closely.

'You will see, Bernard,' Nicole went on remorselessly, 'that there is quite a lot of Olena's natural lubrication visible between her labia, which are beginning to part. I have already ascertained that she is very wet inside, and it's clear that although she has not been stimulated in any way, and although she knows that she should not think lewd thoughts or allow herself to become excited, the wicked girl has once again proved to be a dirty tramp. But I can't whip her while she's in that condition. Bernard, use your tongue. Lick her clean.'

Olena squealed in protest, but Nicole pressed a hand into the small of Olena's back. For a moment Olena resisted, but she knew that she would not feel the paddle on her bottom until the slave had completed his task, and so she thrust out her bottom and tried to move her knees even further apart.

She felt warm breath on the delicate membranes between her thighs - around and inside her purse, as Nicole had called it. And then something touched her; something warm, and smooth, and probing. It was Bernard's tongue. Olena screwed up h$r eyes, expecting to be revolted, but she discovered that being licked was far from unpleasant. She had imagined that it would be like having her face licked by a dog, but even more slobbery and perhaps even painful. But it wasn't at all like that. It was like the touch of Jem's fingers, but somehow both gentler and more insistent.

She began to detect rhythm in Bernard's licking: he would slide his tongue along the left-hand side of the split of her purse, and then along the right, and then dart it inside her before starting again. Olena found herself moving her hips slightly to meet his licks, and she realised that only a few minutes of Bernard's attentions would be required to bring her to another of her recently discovered climaxes.

That's enough,' Nicole said. 'She's clean enough to be smacked. Bernard, you may stand. Go to the other side of the couch and hold Olena's breasts while I whip her bottom with the paddle.'

Olena moaned and tossed her head. She understood that Nicole was merely doing her best to add to Olena's feelings of self-abasement and shame, but Olena knew that her breasts were sensitive, and were somehow connected -almost physically, as if by taut wire - to the place inside, near her secret places, where she most strongly felt her sinful desires and longings. The part that Jem had called her clitoris, perhaps.

Bernard was standing in front of her. She looked at his slim, hairless chest. She gazed in awe at the metal rings through his nipples. She realised, with a pang of guilt, that she had not thought about Barat since she had positioned herself for her punishment. She considered whether she missed him, and to her surprise decided that she didn't.

Bernard's hands were not large enough to hold Olena's breasts. With surprising gentleness he placed one palm underneath each breast and cupped them. Then, with great deliberation, he placed his thumbs on her nipples.

Olena looked up at him. Could he possibly understand the shivers of excitement that his touch was sending rippling through her body? 'Please,' she whispered. 'Please.'

He pressed his thumbs a little more firmly against the stiff peaks, and at that moment Nicole started to swing the paddle.

'Dirty. Wicked. Little. Girl.' Nicole spat out a word each time the paddle splatted on to one or other of Olena's buttocks. Til. Whip. This. Naughty. Bottom. Until. It's. Red. All. Over.'

Olena gasped and started with each blow. Somehow the gentle, insistent touch of Bernard's hands seemed to subdue her urge to cry out and jump up.

Nicole was not restraining herself. The paddle came down again and again, hard and fast; Olena felt her bottom was on fire, and each new stroke added a searing line.

Olena soon began to appreciate the rhythm of Nicole's smacks, however, and with her bottom feeling as hot as a furnace, and its warmth spreading seductively into her body, Olena was soon drifting into what she had come to think of as her spanking dreamland: a state of mind in which the lightest touches on her body felt magnified; the pain of each smack lessened, while the comforting heat increased; and pulses of sheer pleasure began to ripple throughout her body - emanating, she now supposed, from the mysterious organ known as the clitoris.

In this floating euphoria she became gradually more conscious of her breasts. Like her bottom they felt warm, enlarged and sensitive. Bernard's thumbs were brushing their hard tips in time with Nicole's smacks, sending jolts of sensation to merge with the melting pleasure in her loins. Her gasps of pain had become little moans of pleasure; she was lifting her hips so that her bottom greeted each splat of the paddle; she could feel the waves of ecstasy gathering strength inside her, and she knew that if Nicole and Bernard continued they would soon take her to and over the brink of a climax. She was helpless to prevent her body shuddering each time she crested a wave.

As if in a dream, she heard Bernard's tentative voice. 'Miss,' he said, T believe she is becoming very excited.'

Nicole cursed. The smacking stopped.

Touch me, Olena pleaded soundlessly. Touch my secret place. Touch my clitoris, please.

'You're right, Bernard,' Nicole said. 'Come here and see how wet she's made herself. You'll have to lick her clean again. Lick her buttocks, too. Then I'll try the narrow strap instead.'

Now Olena found the touch of Bernard's tongue as stimulating as his hands on her breasts. It was profoundly humiliating to think that he was cleaning up the evidence of her filthy thoughts, and to know that as he did so he could see all of her most private places - including, she realised with a rush of shame, her little back hole. When he began to run his tongue across her heated, sore buttocks the combination of the soothing touch with the degrading knowledge that she was being licked like a dinner plate was almost too much to bear, and in her confusion she started to sob silently. Her shoulders shook, and her eyes filled with tears.

And all the time she knew that if he were to push his tongue just a little further forward, to lick the place where all her sensation seemed to be concentrated, she would almost instantly experience the ecstatic explosion of an orgasm.

'Hold her breasts again,' Nicole said. 'Take her nipples between your fingers and hold them firmly. I want her kept still. Her bottom's sore now, and the strap's going to sting. It's hard to believe that a good girl would find anything arousing in what I'm going to do to this young woman's bottom. Let's see how good Olena is.'

The strap was certainly more painful than the paddle, and Olena's bottom was already very tender. Each lash, applied with merciless regularity and precision, blazed with vitriolic fire. As each stroke fell Olena would start, and Bernard would squeeze her nipples to ensure that she remained kneeling.

Drops of salt water fell from Olena's downcast eyes on to her breasts; she felt utterly wretched, and welcomed each blazing reminder of her iniquity that welted her backside. But no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the purity of the pain, she could not ignore the treacherous feelings that swelled inside her. She remembered Jem's envious expression as Olena had explained to her that the merest pleasurable thought made her want to be punished, and that being punished only increased her desire and her shame.

Now the jolts of sensation from her bottom and her breasts began to echo each other, and once again Olena found herself drifting into her spanking dreamland. As the strap relentlessly laid down its dense grid of fine scarlet lines, Olena was lifted higher and higher.

Once again Bernard detected the imminence of her climax. Nicole threw down the strap. 'I despair of you, Olena,' she shouted. T begin to think you are an incorrigibly bad girl. I am trying so hard to give you discipline, and this is how you thank me. What do you have to say for yourself?'

Olena, emerging from her daze, could think of nothing to say. Nicole was right: Olena was thoroughly wicked. She was a disappointment to everyone: to her parents and the community, when they found out about her licentiousness; to Barat, her devoted guardian; and to the staff of the Chateau, who had gone out of their way to administer punishments. And still she could think of nothing but her own pleasure.

She began to cry again.

Nicole ignored her panting sobs, and summoned Bernard to her. 'You see?' Olena heard Nicole say. 'She's actually dripping now. I can't believe the extent of this woman's perversity. Being stripped naked excites her; being inspected by strangers excites her; being whipped excites her. And she's supposed to be pure and innocent! Is there no way we can punish her without stirring up her lascivious desires?'

Olena heard Bernard's voice; he seemed to be offering a suggestion. Nicole whispered a reply; they conversed in low voices for a while. At last Nicole announced, 'Very well; we might as well try it.'

She came to stan4 in front of Olena. 'Stop snivelling,' she said abruptly, but her tone was gentle, and she wiped the tears from Olena's face. 'We're going to try something new. Bernard will punish you in a manner that I think even you will find difficult to enjoy, while I will instruct you to perform certain actions that even the most abandoned harlot would find distasteful. I promise that you won't enjoy the next ten minutes.'