Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Coffee, served by Havers and Rosalie, was drunk from thin, ornately-styled cups. White with a gold motif. It came black or white, according to choice. But, perhaps not surprisingly, the cups which
Julia and Melissa held were wont to clatter a little uncertainly as they returned to the saucers.
Once again the two girls had been returned to apparent respectability.
Elegantly dressed . . . decently postured . . . chic women of the world. The obscene exhibition which both of them had just had to make of themselves might as well have never have happened!
Or, so it seemed on the surface.
“Good coffee, my dear . . .”
“I have it flown in direct from Paris.”
“Ahh! How do you find it, Miss Chant?”
“Er . . . v-very nice . . . yes . . . very nice, Mr. Quentin”
“Melissa?”
“Most excellent, Mr. Quentin . . . thank you . . .”
It occurred to Quentin that Melissa was putting up a slightly better performance than Julia. But then, had she not always done so?
At last the cups were emptied. The tray was taken away.
“Now we come to another matter,” said Quentin, with mock solemnity.
Julia and Melissa seemed to shiver. They had hoped their ordeal was over, but now it seemed that this was not so!
“Havers . . . have you noticed anything this afternoon?”
The ‘butler’ had just returned to the room. “Well, Sir . . . of course, I have noted certain things.” He grinned happily. “But what did you mean exactly?”
“About the behaviour of these two young ladies? Their social behaviour, I am referring to.”
“I can’t exactly say I have, Sir.”
“Well . . . I have noticed. They have been committing various solecisms. Social solecisms. And I think they have been doing it deliberately.”
“Really, Sir?”
“Yes . . . really. Addressing me and my wife incorrectly. Behaving oddly. Not at all as well-brought-up young ladies should.”
“I see, Sir . . .”
“And do you know why they have been doing this, Havers?”
“No . . . I can’t say I do, Sir.”
“Then, I will tell you, Havers. Because, deep down . . . almost without them knowing it . . . both these girls are masochists!”
“Is that so, Sir!”
“In my view, it is, Havers. You see, deep down, they want to be punished for their faults. That’s why they have been committing these stupid faults.”
“Well, I never Sir! I’d not have believed it unless you’d told me!”
“What it boils down to, Havers, is that these girls actually want to have their backsides smacked. Almost without knowing it, I repeat. Now, girls, be honest, is that not so?”
There was quite a long silence . . . until Quentin began to get a shade restless.
“Yes . . .”
“Y-Yes . . . Mr. Quentin . . .”
Both agreed; each bowed her head.
“I thought I was right,” said Quentin, almost gleefully. “It is fortunate I kept a note of the various solecisms. So young ladies, your masochistic desires can be happily fulfilled!”
“What do you intend, Quentin?” asked Glenda rather stuffily.
“Isn’t it obvious, my dear? Havers and I are going to spank them.”
“Is that wise, Quentin? I mean . . . they like it. According to you, anyway.”
Quentin smiled. A long, slow smile. “One must be understanding with guests, my dear,” he said. “Fit in with their moods, their wishes. That’s how a good host should behave, I am sure!”
“If you say so, Quentin.”
“Oh . . . I do . . . I do, my dear Glenda . . .”
“Well . . . please carry on then. I do not wish to appear lacking in social graces. If that is what you feel these two ladies want, you must give it to them.”
“Yes . . . I must . . .” agreed Quentin. He looked across at Havers.
“Which one do you want to deal with?” he asked.
“It’s not for me to say, Sir,” replied Havers unctuously. “You’re the host.”
“Oh . . . very well then. You take Julia. I’ll have Melissa.” He smiled at the two seated girls, as if he had truly given them so one great benefit. “So now your masochistic desires can be satisfied,” he said. “I know that’s what you truly want!”
Silence . . .
Broken only by a half-stifled sob from Julia.
Quentin’s finger crooked. Then so did that of Havers.
Julia and Melissa arose from the couch.
A new ordeal had begun . . .
Melissa’s chic emerald-green dress was up around her waist, her tiny black net knickers were down about her knees . . . Quentin was smacking her shapely bottom heartily, his palm falling alternately on each cheek.
Julia’s black skirt was off again, her powder blue knickers were also around her knees . . . and, pulled over Havers thighs, the ‘butler’ was slapping her buttocks equally vigorously.
Looking on, giggling and clapping, Glenda and Rosalie urged the two men to, greater efforts.
Smaacckkk! Ssmmaaaccckkk!
Sllaaaapppp! Ssllaappppp!
“Oh . . . ah . . . oww . . . ahh!”
“Oooff . . . ooww . . . ooww!”
Ssmmaacckkk . . . Smmmaacccckkkk . . . Smmaaaccckkk . . . SSmmaacccckkkk . . .
“Come on boys . . . give it to them . . . harder . . . harder!”
Ssmmaacckkk . . . Smmmaacccckkkk . . . Smmaaaccckkk . . . SSmmaacccckkkk . . .
“They’re loving it you can see they love it . . . oh . . . look at them wriggle!”
“Oww . . . aahh . . . oww . . .aahhh . . .”
“Oooo . . . owww . . . offff . . . aaahh . . .”
The gasps and cries which came repeatedly from Julia and Melissa were not, of course, anything like the sounds they made when they were being properly thrashed. Hardened to far more severe treatment, a spanking was a relative ‘luxury’ as far as corrective treatment was concerned. All the same, the repeated fall of a hard, flat male palm made them gasp and yelp quite adequately.
And their bottoms bounced and squirmed continuously . . . much to the pleasure of the spankers!
SSmmaaackkk . . . ssslllaadpppp . . . ssmmmmaaaccckkk . . . Ssllaaapppp . . .
SSmmmaaacecckkkk . . . Ssslllaaappp . . . Sslllaaaappp . . . Smmaaccekkk . . .”
The jelly-juddering cheeks changed from white to pink.
Then from pink to red.
“That’s it . . . hhaahh . . .. squirm . . . hhaaahhh . . . squirm . . . my b-beauty . . .” panted Quentin. His face was almost as red as Melissa’s bottom.
Havers, grinning, was sweating like a pig. “I’ll give it . . . I’ll give it you . . . my girl . . .” he kept on repeating. As if he were not already doing just that!
SSmmmaaaccckkkk . . . Ssllaaappppp . . . Sssmmaaacckkk . . . Ssllaaapppp . . .
Ssslllaaappp . . . Sssmmaacckkk . . . Ssllaaapppp . . . Ssmmmaccckkk . . .
“Well done, boys, you’re really getting through to them now!”
“Oww . . . ohh . . . ooohh . . . aaahhh . . . oowww . . . oowww!”
“Do you think they’ll come? Masochists should if they’re spanked long enough.”
“I wonder . . . that would be fun! Come on Havers . . . give it all you’ve got. That Miss Chant deserves all that’s coming to her!”
“Ohh aaahhh . . . ooofff . . . aaahhhh . . . oowwww!”
Twenty slaps
Thirty slaps
Forty slaps
On and on the double spanking went . . . and it was obviously not going to stop when they thought the girls had had enough, but when Quentin and Havers had!
Ssllaaaappppp . . . Sillaaappppp . . . Sssillaaappppp . . .
The faces of both men became contorted with their efforts. They were red and panting . . . eyes suffused . . . lips wet. Havers was actually dribbling.
On and on
Sllaaaaaaap . . . Smmaeckkk . . . Ssllaaapp . . . Ssmmaacckkk . . . Sslap . . .
On and on.
Slapp . . . smackk . . . slapp . . . smackk .
But the arms of Quentin and Havers were visibly slowing and flagging. The steam had gone out of them, just as the sting had gone out of their palms.
Quentin stopped first, breath rasping. He slumped forward over Melissa, his face almost down to her glowing buttock cheeks. For a moment, Glenda was worried about his condition . . . but no . . . he seemed pretty well alright. It was dangerous for men of his age to make such efforts, she reflected. But then, did giving such a spanking take any more out of him than if he had been fucking Melissa?
Probably not . . . and he had certainly done plenty of that!
A few more slaps on Julia’s bottom and then Havers, too, stopped.
He was in an even worse condition then Quentin . . . slumping back in his chair, chest heaving, mouth gaping as he gasped for air. Julia was tipped unceremoniously on the floor. Where she remained.
“Congratulations, boys!” laughed Glenda, “that was really something.
Oh I did enjoy it, didn’t you, Rosalie?”
“I sure did! I hope those masochists did too!”
Solicitously Glenda brought forward a jug of water from the table.
“Here, my dear, put your hand in this . . . it must be burning awfully!”
Thankfully, Quentin complied. He smiled up at his wife. “What a kind woman you are,” he said.
It should be noted, however, that this same ‘kind’ woman did not offer any similar relief to Melissa’s far more burning tender bottom!
After ten minutes . . . and a couple of large Scotches . . . Quentin and Havers were fully restored!
Meanwhile, Julia and Melissa had been permitted to clothe themselves decently again. Each sat rather gingerly on the couch, biting her lips. Their cheeks were pink, their eyes were watering. A spanking may not have been anywhere near as bad as a trashing but, all the same, it was not exactly a laughing matter. Especially a spanking like they had just received!
“I hope you enjoyed that, young ladies,” said Quentin at last.
His voice was unctuous, as if he had truly just conferred a favour.
“It was what you had been working towards all the afternoon, I’m sure. Miss Chant?”
“Y-Yes . . . M-Master . . .” replied Julia.
“Oh dear oh dear . . . are you trying to encourage me to have you spanked again?”
“Oh no!” gasped Julia. “I m-meant . . . M-Mr Quentin . . . I’m ssorry . . . Mr. Quentin . . .”
Quentin smiled. “I should hope so,” he said. “And you, Miss Villiers . . . did you enjoy that?”
“Yes Mr. Quentin . . . Th-thank you . . .” answered Melissa.
Rosalie marvelled that the girl could make such a seemingly genuine reply. Amazing!
“Well now,” continued Quentin, “before you go, we come to the question of your Bridge debts. £1 apiece, I think . . .”
“Correct,” said Glenda.
“We’ll have it now then, young ladies.”
Julia and Melissa looked at each other in puzzlement. What cruel new joke was this? Of course they had no money!
“W-We . . . haven’t any . . . m-money . . .” Melissa managed to say at last.
“No money!” Quentin raised his eyebrows in mock incredulity.
“You mean to say you gambled without funds?” chimed in Glenda.
Julia and Melissa sat silent, heads bowed. What was there to say? They were losers on every count.
“In that case,” said Quentin briskly, “since you can’t pay, we’ll have to exact penalties. That’s the House Rule here.”
“It certainly is!” agreed Glenda.
Havers was already rubbing his hands in anticipation; Rosalie was clenching her till the knuckles were white.
“Stand up . . . both of you!” ordered Quentin.
The two smartly dressed young women got to their feet . . . pale now, and tense with dread.
“You know the penalty, I suppose?” said Glenda
“N-No . . . Ma’am . . .” they answered together.
“A stroke of the cane for every pound owed!” pronounced Glenda with gleeful venom.
Julia and Melissa both gasped . . . and each recoiled as if she had been struck in the face.
“Havers!”
“Yes . . . boss?” He stepped to Quentin’s side.
“Strip Julia naked, please . . .” said Quentin. As he did so, he put his finger in the neck of Melissa’s dress and ripped it down to her waist. “We’ll have a look at these tits of yours . . . for a change, Miss Villiers!”
By his side, piggy eyes bright with cruel lust, Havers was tearing off Julia’s pretty powder-blue blouse . . . to expose superb breasts held in a powder-blue net brassiere. The last time Julia had been stripped in this brutal fashion had been by the negro Jason, when she had first gone aboard the ‘Paradise’. But her mind did not recall those even more terrible moments.
Away came the brassiere.
Beautiful breasts bounced free again . . .
Rip . . . rip . . .
And the black skirt was gone . . .
Rip . . .
And the pale blue briefs were off . . .
“Leave the belt and stockings!” ordered Quentin. “I think they’re rather pretty.”
“I think so too,” said Glenda. “They can wear them when they come up here to act as my maidservants. And those high-heeled shoes as well”.
Naked again . . . to all intents and purposes anyway . . . Julia and Melissa stood side by side . . . trembling . . . eyes wide and fearful, like those of wounded a****ls.
“Julia . . . kneel at that end of the couch. You Melissa, at the other!”
The return to nudity was accompanied by a return to their Christian names!
Each knelt as directed, bending over the rounded arms of the sofa, presenting glowing red buttock cheeks in a smooth curve.
“Rosalie . . . you’ll find a couple of canes in the drawer of that escritoire. Fetch them please . . .”
“Right, Mr. Quentin . . .”
The ‘maid’ opened the drawer of the antique writing desk and took the two whippy rods lying there.
“Give one to Mrs. Osman, please. The other one is for you to use.”
Rosalie’s face was wreathed in a sudden smile.
“You really mean . . .” she began.
“I do,” said Quentin, smiling in return. Rosalie’s eagerness to use the rod somehow pleased him.
“Thank you . . . thank you ever so much, Mr. Osman . . .” Rosalie sounded rather like a grateful schoolgirl who had just been given a box of chocolates.
“Havers . . . kneel on the centre of the couch . . . and hold Julia down by her shoulders . . .”
“Sure, boss!”
The ‘butler’ was more than delighted to obey such a command.
He felt the warmth and softness of Julia’s smooth shoulders and upper arms as he pinioned them. He heard and felt her beginning to sob. Before him was the white smoothness of her back, terminating in the superb swell of her bottom. The bottom that was now glowing with the slaps he had given it. My God, he thought, she’ll be very tender! What a state to get a caning in! Meanwhile, he was aware that Quentin had taken up a position behind him . . . and was pinioning Melissa similarly.
“Rosalie . . . will you deal with Julia, please,” said Quentin. “Eighteen strokes, remember . . . and all on her bottom if you can manage it.”
“I’ll try, Mr. Osman . . .”
“And give it to her hard, Rosalie. There’s no point in giving anyone a light caning. They’ve got to be made to feel it well and truly.”
“I understand, Mr. Osman . . .”
Julia began to sob louder and faster as Rosalie came into Havers’ view, her bright eyes fastening on the girl’s waiting bottom.
As he gripped Julia even more tightly, he saw that bottom twitch and quiver with awful dread.
“Ready, Glenda?” enquired Quentin.
“Yes, Quentin . . .”
“Ready, Rosalie?”
“Yes, Mr. Osman . . .”
Havers felt a shaft of the purest sadistic joy lance through him as Rosalie, with teeth bared ferociously, brought the cane whiplashing down across Julia’s thrusting, helpless buttocks.
The awful, gasping scream that erupted from beneath him was echoed by another from behind him . . .
“I think Havers is going to enjoy himself next week.”
“He seems to be doing that right now!” laughed Glenda.
“Even more so,” said Quentin.
The two of them were watching the TV screen upon which Havers could be seen making free use of his hands while he removed Julia and Melissa from the tables after a prolonged stint of healing treatment. This, of course, had been most necessary at the conclusion of the first game of ‘High Society’!
Havers slapped Melissa’s bottom as she got off the table. It was a bottom restored to healthy whiteness again.
“I’m going to ask the boss for permission to fuck you this evening,” Havers was heard to say.
Melissa appeared to accept the fact as meekly as she did the slap.
Glenda smiled. “Going to give it to him?”
“Probably,” replied Quentin. “But I might have her myself first . . .”
“Bully for you,” said Glenda. “And I might put Julia to work. Perhaps we could make up a foursome?”
“Why not?”
“Does Havers know we’re going away next week?”
“Not yet. Does Rosalie?”
“No . . .”
“We’ll tell them tonight, I think.”
“Right. Then Rosalie can start my packing. Any plans for them while we’re away?”
“No. I think we’ll leave them entirely in the hands of the ‘servants’.“ Quentin grinned. “Another step down the ladder. If that’s possible!”
“Mmmm . . . I reckon Rosalie will enjoy herself every much as Havers. Servants, when they get the chance, can be even bossier than their masters!”
“True,” nodded Quentin . . . “a little brief authority . . .”
“I’m looking forward to New York,” said Glenda, stretching.
On the screen, Havers was fondling Julia’s breasts with his right hand while he held her sitting upright by holding a hank of her hair in his left hand. Julia’s features were an impassive mask . . . but in her eyes was a look of loathing and revulsion.
“Yes . . . it will make a change,” agreed Quentin. “Do you know, Glenda,” he went on, “sometimes I’m not sure if Julia is fully tamed even yet.”
“You surprise me . . .”
“Well . . . look at her eyes now. Not very submissive, are they?”
Glenda was silent for a few moments, watching Havers’ hand continue to squeeze and fondle.
“No . . . I guess you’re right. Perhaps it’s different with Havers.”
“Could be. But it shouldn’t be! A slave-girl of mine ought not to have that look in her eyes no matter who I give her to!”
“Not very submissive at the moment, I agree . . .”
“Interesting . . .” mused Quentin. It intrigued him that there was still some spark left in Julia after all she had gone through. It pleased him, too. That made it more amusing than if one were dealing with a complete submissive . . . an automaton, a zombie-like creature.
“Perhaps she’ll be more submissive towards him after Havers has had her in his charge for a week,” suggested Glenda.
“Maybe . . . maybe . . .” nodded Quentin. “We shall see. . . .”.
On the screen, Havers released Julia’s hair . . . slapped her bottom as she got off the healing table . . . and then ordered the girls back to their quarters. Side by side, the two lovely naked creatures left the room . . . curvaceously shaped . . . their soft female flesh quivering delectably.
Mine, thought Quentin, both mine . . . Then he bent forward and switched off the TV set.
Julia and Melissa held were wont to clatter a little uncertainly as they returned to the saucers.
Once again the two girls had been returned to apparent respectability.
Elegantly dressed . . . decently postured . . . chic women of the world. The obscene exhibition which both of them had just had to make of themselves might as well have never have happened!
Or, so it seemed on the surface.
“Good coffee, my dear . . .”
“I have it flown in direct from Paris.”
“Ahh! How do you find it, Miss Chant?”
“Er . . . v-very nice . . . yes . . . very nice, Mr. Quentin”
“Melissa?”
“Most excellent, Mr. Quentin . . . thank you . . .”
It occurred to Quentin that Melissa was putting up a slightly better performance than Julia. But then, had she not always done so?
At last the cups were emptied. The tray was taken away.
“Now we come to another matter,” said Quentin, with mock solemnity.
Julia and Melissa seemed to shiver. They had hoped their ordeal was over, but now it seemed that this was not so!
“Havers . . . have you noticed anything this afternoon?”
The ‘butler’ had just returned to the room. “Well, Sir . . . of course, I have noted certain things.” He grinned happily. “But what did you mean exactly?”
“About the behaviour of these two young ladies? Their social behaviour, I am referring to.”
“I can’t exactly say I have, Sir.”
“Well . . . I have noticed. They have been committing various solecisms. Social solecisms. And I think they have been doing it deliberately.”
“Really, Sir?”
“Yes . . . really. Addressing me and my wife incorrectly. Behaving oddly. Not at all as well-brought-up young ladies should.”
“I see, Sir . . .”
“And do you know why they have been doing this, Havers?”
“No . . . I can’t say I do, Sir.”
“Then, I will tell you, Havers. Because, deep down . . . almost without them knowing it . . . both these girls are masochists!”
“Is that so, Sir!”
“In my view, it is, Havers. You see, deep down, they want to be punished for their faults. That’s why they have been committing these stupid faults.”
“Well, I never Sir! I’d not have believed it unless you’d told me!”
“What it boils down to, Havers, is that these girls actually want to have their backsides smacked. Almost without knowing it, I repeat. Now, girls, be honest, is that not so?”
There was quite a long silence . . . until Quentin began to get a shade restless.
“Yes . . .”
“Y-Yes . . . Mr. Quentin . . .”
Both agreed; each bowed her head.
“I thought I was right,” said Quentin, almost gleefully. “It is fortunate I kept a note of the various solecisms. So young ladies, your masochistic desires can be happily fulfilled!”
“What do you intend, Quentin?” asked Glenda rather stuffily.
“Isn’t it obvious, my dear? Havers and I are going to spank them.”
“Is that wise, Quentin? I mean . . . they like it. According to you, anyway.”
Quentin smiled. A long, slow smile. “One must be understanding with guests, my dear,” he said. “Fit in with their moods, their wishes. That’s how a good host should behave, I am sure!”
“If you say so, Quentin.”
“Oh . . . I do . . . I do, my dear Glenda . . .”
“Well . . . please carry on then. I do not wish to appear lacking in social graces. If that is what you feel these two ladies want, you must give it to them.”
“Yes . . . I must . . .” agreed Quentin. He looked across at Havers.
“Which one do you want to deal with?” he asked.
“It’s not for me to say, Sir,” replied Havers unctuously. “You’re the host.”
“Oh . . . very well then. You take Julia. I’ll have Melissa.” He smiled at the two seated girls, as if he had truly given them so one great benefit. “So now your masochistic desires can be satisfied,” he said. “I know that’s what you truly want!”
Silence . . .
Broken only by a half-stifled sob from Julia.
Quentin’s finger crooked. Then so did that of Havers.
Julia and Melissa arose from the couch.
A new ordeal had begun . . .
Melissa’s chic emerald-green dress was up around her waist, her tiny black net knickers were down about her knees . . . Quentin was smacking her shapely bottom heartily, his palm falling alternately on each cheek.
Julia’s black skirt was off again, her powder blue knickers were also around her knees . . . and, pulled over Havers thighs, the ‘butler’ was slapping her buttocks equally vigorously.
Looking on, giggling and clapping, Glenda and Rosalie urged the two men to, greater efforts.
Smaacckkk! Ssmmaaaccckkk!
Sllaaaapppp! Ssllaappppp!
“Oh . . . ah . . . oww . . . ahh!”
“Oooff . . . ooww . . . ooww!”
Ssmmaacckkk . . . Smmmaacccckkkk . . . Smmaaaccckkk . . . SSmmaacccckkkk . . .
“Come on boys . . . give it to them . . . harder . . . harder!”
Ssmmaacckkk . . . Smmmaacccckkkk . . . Smmaaaccckkk . . . SSmmaacccckkkk . . .
“They’re loving it you can see they love it . . . oh . . . look at them wriggle!”
“Oww . . . aahh . . . oww . . .aahhh . . .”
“Oooo . . . owww . . . offff . . . aaahh . . .”
The gasps and cries which came repeatedly from Julia and Melissa were not, of course, anything like the sounds they made when they were being properly thrashed. Hardened to far more severe treatment, a spanking was a relative ‘luxury’ as far as corrective treatment was concerned. All the same, the repeated fall of a hard, flat male palm made them gasp and yelp quite adequately.
And their bottoms bounced and squirmed continuously . . . much to the pleasure of the spankers!
SSmmaaackkk . . . ssslllaadpppp . . . ssmmmmaaaccckkk . . . Ssllaaapppp . . .
SSmmmaaacecckkkk . . . Ssslllaaappp . . . Sslllaaaappp . . . Smmaaccekkk . . .”
The jelly-juddering cheeks changed from white to pink.
Then from pink to red.
“That’s it . . . hhaahh . . .. squirm . . . hhaaahhh . . . squirm . . . my b-beauty . . .” panted Quentin. His face was almost as red as Melissa’s bottom.
Havers, grinning, was sweating like a pig. “I’ll give it . . . I’ll give it you . . . my girl . . .” he kept on repeating. As if he were not already doing just that!
SSmmmaaaccckkkk . . . Ssllaaappppp . . . Sssmmaaacckkk . . . Ssllaaapppp . . .
Ssslllaaappp . . . Sssmmaacckkk . . . Ssllaaapppp . . . Ssmmmaccckkk . . .
“Well done, boys, you’re really getting through to them now!”
“Oww . . . ohh . . . ooohh . . . aaahhh . . . oowww . . . oowww!”
“Do you think they’ll come? Masochists should if they’re spanked long enough.”
“I wonder . . . that would be fun! Come on Havers . . . give it all you’ve got. That Miss Chant deserves all that’s coming to her!”
“Ohh aaahhh . . . ooofff . . . aaahhhh . . . oowwww!”
Twenty slaps
Thirty slaps
Forty slaps
On and on the double spanking went . . . and it was obviously not going to stop when they thought the girls had had enough, but when Quentin and Havers had!
Ssllaaaappppp . . . Sillaaappppp . . . Sssillaaappppp . . .
The faces of both men became contorted with their efforts. They were red and panting . . . eyes suffused . . . lips wet. Havers was actually dribbling.
On and on
Sllaaaaaaap . . . Smmaeckkk . . . Ssllaaapp . . . Ssmmaacckkk . . . Sslap . . .
On and on.
Slapp . . . smackk . . . slapp . . . smackk .
But the arms of Quentin and Havers were visibly slowing and flagging. The steam had gone out of them, just as the sting had gone out of their palms.
Quentin stopped first, breath rasping. He slumped forward over Melissa, his face almost down to her glowing buttock cheeks. For a moment, Glenda was worried about his condition . . . but no . . . he seemed pretty well alright. It was dangerous for men of his age to make such efforts, she reflected. But then, did giving such a spanking take any more out of him than if he had been fucking Melissa?
Probably not . . . and he had certainly done plenty of that!
A few more slaps on Julia’s bottom and then Havers, too, stopped.
He was in an even worse condition then Quentin . . . slumping back in his chair, chest heaving, mouth gaping as he gasped for air. Julia was tipped unceremoniously on the floor. Where she remained.
“Congratulations, boys!” laughed Glenda, “that was really something.
Oh I did enjoy it, didn’t you, Rosalie?”
“I sure did! I hope those masochists did too!”
Solicitously Glenda brought forward a jug of water from the table.
“Here, my dear, put your hand in this . . . it must be burning awfully!”
Thankfully, Quentin complied. He smiled up at his wife. “What a kind woman you are,” he said.
It should be noted, however, that this same ‘kind’ woman did not offer any similar relief to Melissa’s far more burning tender bottom!
After ten minutes . . . and a couple of large Scotches . . . Quentin and Havers were fully restored!
Meanwhile, Julia and Melissa had been permitted to clothe themselves decently again. Each sat rather gingerly on the couch, biting her lips. Their cheeks were pink, their eyes were watering. A spanking may not have been anywhere near as bad as a trashing but, all the same, it was not exactly a laughing matter. Especially a spanking like they had just received!
“I hope you enjoyed that, young ladies,” said Quentin at last.
His voice was unctuous, as if he had truly just conferred a favour.
“It was what you had been working towards all the afternoon, I’m sure. Miss Chant?”
“Y-Yes . . . M-Master . . .” replied Julia.
“Oh dear oh dear . . . are you trying to encourage me to have you spanked again?”
“Oh no!” gasped Julia. “I m-meant . . . M-Mr Quentin . . . I’m ssorry . . . Mr. Quentin . . .”
Quentin smiled. “I should hope so,” he said. “And you, Miss Villiers . . . did you enjoy that?”
“Yes Mr. Quentin . . . Th-thank you . . .” answered Melissa.
Rosalie marvelled that the girl could make such a seemingly genuine reply. Amazing!
“Well now,” continued Quentin, “before you go, we come to the question of your Bridge debts. £1 apiece, I think . . .”
“Correct,” said Glenda.
“We’ll have it now then, young ladies.”
Julia and Melissa looked at each other in puzzlement. What cruel new joke was this? Of course they had no money!
“W-We . . . haven’t any . . . m-money . . .” Melissa managed to say at last.
“No money!” Quentin raised his eyebrows in mock incredulity.
“You mean to say you gambled without funds?” chimed in Glenda.
Julia and Melissa sat silent, heads bowed. What was there to say? They were losers on every count.
“In that case,” said Quentin briskly, “since you can’t pay, we’ll have to exact penalties. That’s the House Rule here.”
“It certainly is!” agreed Glenda.
Havers was already rubbing his hands in anticipation; Rosalie was clenching her till the knuckles were white.
“Stand up . . . both of you!” ordered Quentin.
The two smartly dressed young women got to their feet . . . pale now, and tense with dread.
“You know the penalty, I suppose?” said Glenda
“N-No . . . Ma’am . . .” they answered together.
“A stroke of the cane for every pound owed!” pronounced Glenda with gleeful venom.
Julia and Melissa both gasped . . . and each recoiled as if she had been struck in the face.
“Havers!”
“Yes . . . boss?” He stepped to Quentin’s side.
“Strip Julia naked, please . . .” said Quentin. As he did so, he put his finger in the neck of Melissa’s dress and ripped it down to her waist. “We’ll have a look at these tits of yours . . . for a change, Miss Villiers!”
By his side, piggy eyes bright with cruel lust, Havers was tearing off Julia’s pretty powder-blue blouse . . . to expose superb breasts held in a powder-blue net brassiere. The last time Julia had been stripped in this brutal fashion had been by the negro Jason, when she had first gone aboard the ‘Paradise’. But her mind did not recall those even more terrible moments.
Away came the brassiere.
Beautiful breasts bounced free again . . .
Rip . . . rip . . .
And the black skirt was gone . . .
Rip . . .
And the pale blue briefs were off . . .
“Leave the belt and stockings!” ordered Quentin. “I think they’re rather pretty.”
“I think so too,” said Glenda. “They can wear them when they come up here to act as my maidservants. And those high-heeled shoes as well”.
Naked again . . . to all intents and purposes anyway . . . Julia and Melissa stood side by side . . . trembling . . . eyes wide and fearful, like those of wounded a****ls.
“Julia . . . kneel at that end of the couch. You Melissa, at the other!”
The return to nudity was accompanied by a return to their Christian names!
Each knelt as directed, bending over the rounded arms of the sofa, presenting glowing red buttock cheeks in a smooth curve.
“Rosalie . . . you’ll find a couple of canes in the drawer of that escritoire. Fetch them please . . .”
“Right, Mr. Quentin . . .”
The ‘maid’ opened the drawer of the antique writing desk and took the two whippy rods lying there.
“Give one to Mrs. Osman, please. The other one is for you to use.”
Rosalie’s face was wreathed in a sudden smile.
“You really mean . . .” she began.
“I do,” said Quentin, smiling in return. Rosalie’s eagerness to use the rod somehow pleased him.
“Thank you . . . thank you ever so much, Mr. Osman . . .” Rosalie sounded rather like a grateful schoolgirl who had just been given a box of chocolates.
“Havers . . . kneel on the centre of the couch . . . and hold Julia down by her shoulders . . .”
“Sure, boss!”
The ‘butler’ was more than delighted to obey such a command.
He felt the warmth and softness of Julia’s smooth shoulders and upper arms as he pinioned them. He heard and felt her beginning to sob. Before him was the white smoothness of her back, terminating in the superb swell of her bottom. The bottom that was now glowing with the slaps he had given it. My God, he thought, she’ll be very tender! What a state to get a caning in! Meanwhile, he was aware that Quentin had taken up a position behind him . . . and was pinioning Melissa similarly.
“Rosalie . . . will you deal with Julia, please,” said Quentin. “Eighteen strokes, remember . . . and all on her bottom if you can manage it.”
“I’ll try, Mr. Osman . . .”
“And give it to her hard, Rosalie. There’s no point in giving anyone a light caning. They’ve got to be made to feel it well and truly.”
“I understand, Mr. Osman . . .”
Julia began to sob louder and faster as Rosalie came into Havers’ view, her bright eyes fastening on the girl’s waiting bottom.
As he gripped Julia even more tightly, he saw that bottom twitch and quiver with awful dread.
“Ready, Glenda?” enquired Quentin.
“Yes, Quentin . . .”
“Ready, Rosalie?”
“Yes, Mr. Osman . . .”
Havers felt a shaft of the purest sadistic joy lance through him as Rosalie, with teeth bared ferociously, brought the cane whiplashing down across Julia’s thrusting, helpless buttocks.
The awful, gasping scream that erupted from beneath him was echoed by another from behind him . . .
“I think Havers is going to enjoy himself next week.”
“He seems to be doing that right now!” laughed Glenda.
“Even more so,” said Quentin.
The two of them were watching the TV screen upon which Havers could be seen making free use of his hands while he removed Julia and Melissa from the tables after a prolonged stint of healing treatment. This, of course, had been most necessary at the conclusion of the first game of ‘High Society’!
Havers slapped Melissa’s bottom as she got off the table. It was a bottom restored to healthy whiteness again.
“I’m going to ask the boss for permission to fuck you this evening,” Havers was heard to say.
Melissa appeared to accept the fact as meekly as she did the slap.
Glenda smiled. “Going to give it to him?”
“Probably,” replied Quentin. “But I might have her myself first . . .”
“Bully for you,” said Glenda. “And I might put Julia to work. Perhaps we could make up a foursome?”
“Why not?”
“Does Havers know we’re going away next week?”
“Not yet. Does Rosalie?”
“No . . .”
“We’ll tell them tonight, I think.”
“Right. Then Rosalie can start my packing. Any plans for them while we’re away?”
“No. I think we’ll leave them entirely in the hands of the ‘servants’.“ Quentin grinned. “Another step down the ladder. If that’s possible!”
“Mmmm . . . I reckon Rosalie will enjoy herself every much as Havers. Servants, when they get the chance, can be even bossier than their masters!”
“True,” nodded Quentin . . . “a little brief authority . . .”
“I’m looking forward to New York,” said Glenda, stretching.
On the screen, Havers was fondling Julia’s breasts with his right hand while he held her sitting upright by holding a hank of her hair in his left hand. Julia’s features were an impassive mask . . . but in her eyes was a look of loathing and revulsion.
“Yes . . . it will make a change,” agreed Quentin. “Do you know, Glenda,” he went on, “sometimes I’m not sure if Julia is fully tamed even yet.”
“You surprise me . . .”
“Well . . . look at her eyes now. Not very submissive, are they?”
Glenda was silent for a few moments, watching Havers’ hand continue to squeeze and fondle.
“No . . . I guess you’re right. Perhaps it’s different with Havers.”
“Could be. But it shouldn’t be! A slave-girl of mine ought not to have that look in her eyes no matter who I give her to!”
“Not very submissive at the moment, I agree . . .”
“Interesting . . .” mused Quentin. It intrigued him that there was still some spark left in Julia after all she had gone through. It pleased him, too. That made it more amusing than if one were dealing with a complete submissive . . . an automaton, a zombie-like creature.
“Perhaps she’ll be more submissive towards him after Havers has had her in his charge for a week,” suggested Glenda.
“Maybe . . . maybe . . .” nodded Quentin. “We shall see. . . .”.
On the screen, Havers released Julia’s hair . . . slapped her bottom as she got off the healing table . . . and then ordered the girls back to their quarters. Side by side, the two lovely naked creatures left the room . . . curvaceously shaped . . . their soft female flesh quivering delectably.
Mine, thought Quentin, both mine . . . Then he bent forward and switched off the TV set.
Anastasia
- 05.10.2021
- 43
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