Subculture (2 page)

Jamilla groaned, the groan turning into a wail as he applied the rod again.

Lisa shifted her stance then held her breath. Michael set the cane on the desk then returned to his stance behind Jamilla. ‘Time to pull your protective panties down.'

‘I'm so striped already...' the girl whined.

‘Why do you always make a fuss this early on, Jamilla? You know that it won't reprieve you,' said the former surgeon in a languid tone.

‘Couldn't I just...?'

‘You can ask nicely for at least six lashes on the bare.'

‘And after that...?' The girl lifted her head and twisted it back to look at him shyly.

‘After that we'll rub the cold cream wherever your hot little pussy desires.'

The girl flushed, then looked away and let her head hang back down. Her bare thighs tautened. Lisa flushed in sympathy.

‘As you wish, sir,' Jamilla whispered, then reached back and pushed her white cotton panties out of the way. They bunched round her upper legs, accentuating the posterior above them. A posterior that was to again taste the merciless cane.

Lisa looked curiously at the marks the rod had left. The housedress and knickers had obviously given the cheeks some shielding for they were pink rather than scarlet. The parallel stripes looked vaguely fuzzy rather than clearly defined. Not that that helped matters any, the English girl thought, as her boss picked up the cane and got ready to use it on the Maltese servant. The doctor shouldn't be treating his staff like virtual slaves. She'd report him to the authorities for cruelty as soon as this session was over. She'd get him struck off every medical register in the land. Lisa moved her own hot limbs around as she tried to get comfortable in the suddenly airless corridor. She'd just force herself to watch to the end to gather as much evidence as she could.

The twenty-eight year old pressed her eye more firmly to the keyhole. The former surgeon was now stroking the servant's newly-bared flesh as if preparing it for sacrifice. ‘Please,' Jamilla whispered. She was writhing. ‘Oh please!' She must be begging for mercy, Lisa thought confusedly. Her voice must be cracking with a fear that sounded similar to desire.

‘Just another six, angel, then you can have your release,' the medical man said coolly. He retrieved the cane from the desk and stood back, then took aim to one side of the Maltese maid's plump backside. For a moment he seemed to feast his eyes on her tremulous hindquarters, then he brought the rod down sharply to create a new red line.

Jamilla cried out and drummed first one foot then the other against the thick rug, as if she was tap dancing. Lisa waited for her to jump up, to flee.

‘Isn't it time you thanked your master nicely? Or would you rather have a few extra lashes?' Michael Landers enquired, raising the long thin cane again.

The girl jerked some more, then she murmured, ‘One stroke on the bare for disobedience, sir. Thank you, sir. Please warm my bad bottom again.'

‘Nice to see that you're learning the drill at last, Jamilla,' Michael Landers said evenly, running the punitive rod down her waiting rear. The reminder of the rod's stern lines seemed to cause the girl's reddened orbs to jiggle. The doctor smiled. ‘Remember how long it took you to learn the humble words? You took spanking after spanking those first few months...'

‘Yes, sir. But now I know better and I ask nicely for the cane, sir,' Jamilla said.

‘I think you're really asking nicely for my cock, but you'll have to wait until your pussy's really dripping,' the doctor replied.

Behind the door, Lisa gulped - the man was shameless. Did he think that all his female employees were permanently on heat?

‘I beg for stroke two on my naked buttocks, sir,' Jamilla continued falteringly. She must be desperate to get it over with.

‘You always did obey the dictates of your sex,' said the man. He used the cane further down her expanse, turning another area of shocking pink into glowing scarlet. Again the maid moaned low and pushed her body forward then Michael Landers tapped each hot cheek in a warning gesture and she slowly and obediently pushed her bare bottom back.

‘Please discipline me,' she whispered.

Her boss moved in to palm her peripheries. ‘Oh sweetheart, you can ask more nicely than that,' he murmured in a taunting voice.

‘Please apply the rod for a third time to my stingingness. Please leather my bad little bum cheeks,' Jamilla gasped out in a thin and oddly breathless tone. Was she blushing? Lisa wished she could see more than the girl's backside, wished she had access to her facial expression and her thoughts.

‘How hard do you deserve it, you thoughtless wench?' the doctor asked. This was doctor's orders on a vastly different scale to those most people knew, thought the trainee herbalist. She waited for the bent-over maid to plead for leniency.

Instead the girl murmured, ‘As hard as my Master desires.'

So he was her Master now. Lisa thought she'd like to substitute the word tyrant. Had this island become part of modern society? Whatever had happened to egalitarian values, to equal rights?

She held her breath, wondering how hard Michael would apply the curved cruel cane. To her relief, he just raised it a few inches before bringing it down smartly. He didn't pull the rod all the way back like they did in black and white movies during boarding school scenes. As previously, though, the maidservant groaned low in her throat and shook from side to side as if to slough off the torment. Lisa could see that the cane's bite had brought a new feverish line to the tanned small backside.

‘Good girl.' Michael fondled her again and Jamilla squirmed. ‘Let me know when you're ready to beg for the fourth hard stroke.'

‘Now, sir, please,' the girl muttered, trying to keep her arse in place. She scrunched up her bum cheeks, obviously anticipating the lash of the cane. When it arrived, she howled and bent her calves back and rubbed furiously at her backside.

‘Say pretty please as you ask me for the next,' Michael said.

‘But it's...'

‘You've done irreparable damage to my Aviary.'

‘I know! I'm so very sorry.'

‘I'm making you even more sorry,' her employer said.

‘Pretty please, sir, I deserve to taste the cane,' Jamilla said throatily.

‘And so you shall,' Michael Landers murmured, resting the rod against her raised cheeks as if about to play them like a violin. He moved the cane down her clearly-tormented globes as if trying to decide which soft area to warm further then he lifted the staff and whacked it into the lower third of her exposed soft hemispheres.

‘Aaah!' the Maltese maid yelled. Her bottom did a wild little rhythmic dance as her belly squirmed across the desk top. Then she pushed her orbs back into their tormentor's fondling hands. Was the girl hoping to gain leniency, Lisa wondered. Hoping to take her boss's mind off the hateful hard application of the cane? ‘Please, sir,' Jamilla whispered, sliding her thighs as far apart at her position allowed for. ‘I need...'

‘You need another two tastes of the rod before you deserve release,' Michael Landers said in an everyday sort of voice. Crouching behind the door, Lisa marvelled at his reserved tone and casual stance. Were these punishments so common that he didn't get overheated? Her own cotton dress was sticking to her newly-swamped underarms.

‘Master, I beg you to train me further,' Jamilla gasped reluctantly after much fondling of her secret places.

‘And will you keep your bottom nice and raised for me?' her tormentor said.

‘Yes, sir.' With what looked like a supreme effort, Jamilla straightened her thighs and pushed her plump nates up obediently. ‘I'm ready to be striped now, sir,' she said.

‘I doubt if you're ever truly ready - you always make such a fuss,' the doctor replied. Again he took his time deciding where to lay the cane then used it halfway down her helpless arse.

‘Aaah! That went over an earlier stroke, didn't it?' Jamilla said when she'd finally let go of her squirming cheeks.

‘It did. You've been so disobedient that I'm running out of space to correct you,' her employer said. He watched her examining her reddened flesh as best she could, then said, ‘I'm waiting.'

‘I deserve to... deserve to taste the rod for the final time,' Jamilla muttered, getting slowly back into place.

‘For the final time today,' Michael corrected. He smiled at the twitching cheeks. ‘Let's face it, Jamilla, there's rarely a week goes by in which you don't end up over my chair or my desk or my knee.'

‘Yes, but not like this... not the cane... just your hand or the wooden spoon.'

Her employer ran the slender rod down her squirming body again. ‘I'll admit that a hard caning like this is only for especially disobedient ladies. But you had to learn, my sweet, to pay attention to my orders, not to ruin my Aviary.'

The words seemed to give new fervour to the doctor's right arm. As Lisa watched, he drew back the rod again then brought it forward to discipline the already snivelling Jamilla. The servant cried out and started to scramble up from the desk. Hesitated for thirty seconds in mid-position, then sank down over the surface and spread-eagled her legs even further apart than they'd been before.

‘Need it,' she whispered gutturally. ‘Oh Master, please.'

‘Well, you want it,' the former surgeon replied, stroking her lust-crazed contours. ‘I'll decide what you need.'

He put the middle digits of his right hand between the girl's labial lips. Lisa peered closer - and was shocked to see them glistening and dripping. My God, the girl had gotten off on this. ‘Oh sweetheart, your bum may prefer a good spanking to a thorough caning, but your pussy loves both of them,' the man murmured mockingly.

Lisa stiffened with rage on her contemporary's behalf, then noiselessly shifted her position. Would the girl's ignominy ever end? Okay, so the Maltese maid was obviously excited by the rod's application. That didn't mean that Michael Landers had to keep talking her down.

The doctor's middle digits slowly disappeared inside the half naked girl and teasingly stayed there.

‘Is that what you want, Jamilla?'

‘Sir, please - if I could also have your cock?'

‘You want my fingers and my cock?' The man gave a short low laugh. ‘Aren't you being a mite ambitious? That little hole's so greedy, isn't it?'

The teased sex tissues seemed to twitch and bear down upon the source of pleasure. ‘I meant... your cock instead of your fingers, sir.'

Her boss started to pull his fingers out. ‘Dear me, you've upset both exploratory digits by rejecting them. They're bored with pot-holing now. They're going away.'

The maid pushed her sex back hard against the retreating fingers. ‘Fill me with something, Master. Please.'

‘Well, my cock is here, of course. But I'm still not sure that you deserve it,' the man murmured coolly.

‘But Master, you said...'

Michael Landers smiled down at her striped sore bum. ‘Yes, I said you could have relief. But I didn't say when. I might have been implying that I'd thrust into you tomorrow or the next day.' The girl squirmed against the wooden desk as his fingers fully withdrew. She shifted her stance. Lisa strained, but couldn't see what she was doing. But Michael obviously could. ‘Take your hands away from your clit this moment, Jamilla, and grip the desk again. That's not allowed.'

Very little was allowed here, Lisa thought. She wondered what would happen when she herself made mistakes, and her bottom trembled. No way would she let him chastise her with a cane. And she'd never plead for his cock like this Maltese maid was doing - never in her wettest dreams.

Ordered not to touch herself, Jamilla was now begging her arrogant boss to slide his manhood inside. ‘I'd bring you pleasure, sir. I'd tighten my inner muscles on you so good.'

‘I might want you to pleasure me with your hungry mouth rather than your hot sex,' the doctor said.

‘I could do that later, sir - bring you to a second come. I'd swallow every drop down. I'd make you spurt so very hard.'

‘Don't be presumptuous about my sexual requirements, girl.' The man spanked both plump red cheeks and they flinched and quivered visibly. Then the girl pushed her quim back even closer to his trousered groin. Lisa held her breath, somehow not wanting this genital union to happen. Felt disappointment tug at her belly as her boss pulled his suit zipper down.

As she stared, he scooped his phallus out. It was excitingly thick and smooth looking. Lisa wasn't surprised to see arousal glistening on its rounded pale head. Jamilla had obviously also heard the zip being disturbed, for she entreatingly tensed and untensed her punished haunches. Gave a whimper of desire as the man positioned his hard promise at the opening to her sex.

‘I think it's time that the bad girl did a little beseeching,' the doctor said.

Jamilla trembled with obvious shame and desire. ‘I want you inside me, sir,' she muttered feverishly. ‘Want every inch.'