From A Society Girl

To A Slave

 

Anonymous

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter I

 

 

 

All the inhabitants of the village of Kronink in Scotland know the castle of Kelington which stands majestically a few miles outside of the village, and which never fails to draw all the visiting tourists who are struck by the mysterious charm of its old-fashioned towers looming at the horizon and surrounded by the thick vegetation of an immense park.

In that castle lived Lord Kelington, the heir of an old Scottish family and who was reputed to be multi-millionaire.

He lived in it only a few months of the year and spent the rest of the time traveling in his powerful car through Britain and abroad.

Lord Kelington was about forty-five years old. His body was athletically built but his face was ravaged by too much good-living. Vice and spirits had left their marks and given him a strange expression of sadism and cruelty. He had the reputation of being heartless and insensitive to human suffering. Besides this, he was reportedly very stingy and always dreamed of adding still more to his already immense fortune.

The people and tradesmen of the village very seldom penetrated into the domain which was surrounded by a very high wall for miles around. Only an old guardian lived in a small house near the entrance and obeyed blindly the orders of his Master, so that it was almost impossible to enter the castle and it would have been still more difficult to get out if by any chance one had got in.

The guardian’s wife, an old woman, looked after the cooking. The only other member of the staff was the servant of Lord Kelington, named Bridget. She was a fine slip of a girl, aged twenty-three, buxom and robust, with a beautiful face lit up by fine blue eyes and hair the color of ripe corn. Formerly she had, had scandalous incidents of behavior at the village. Then she became Lord Kelington’s maid and was no longer seen outside the castle. Of course it was widely whispered that her services were not limited to those of a simple chambermaid.

Anyhow, there was a lot of gossip about Lord Kelington and the people living in the castle, but what was certain was that his life was enshrouded by a deep mystery which nobody could pierce.

Our story begins with a visit to the castle, by a young women who had just arrived at the station, met by Lord Kelington.

Seated in a deep leather armchair she was now conversing with her host. She was twenty-eight years old and her name was Dorothea von Berner. Her nationality was British, but her parents were German. She was strikingly beautiful, but her type of beauty was harsh, imperious and fascinating at the same time.

Her hair was black and shiny, with bluish reflections and carefully arranged into numerous curls which gave it the appearance of being naturally wavy. Her face was pale but remarkably well made up and its profile was very fine. Her mouth was rather strong and sensual, yet willful and its lips were very red, contrasting with her wonderfully white and regular teeth. Her eyebrows were carefully kept and tapered towards the temples, being thicker towards the middle of the face.

But what struck one most in her face were her eyes — as grey as metal, they stared one out of countenance, so harsh and bright they were. Coming from under oval eye1ids, they seemed to cast off an exceptional sheen which took possession of the object or the person on which they were focused.

She wore tortoise-shell spectacles with iridescent lenses which gave still more strength to her look and did not make her any-the-less beautiful. She had the habit of taking them off and putting them on again several times in the course of a conversation, which may have been involuntary or perhaps purposely, in order to reveal the two aspects of her handsome face.

The young woman’s body was rather heavily built, but very near to perfection. Her bust was taut and extremely arrogant under the silk blouse. The breasts were heavy but its tips pointed hard and seemed to stretch the material to the bursting point.

Dorothea’s only physical defect would seem to be a certain heaviness and massiveness, but it made her behind appear all the more insolent and voluptuous and her skirt looked as if it would burst its seams.

On her head was perched a natty little felt hat and she wore an elegant pearl-grey tailor-made suit. Her legs were encased in stockings of the finest silk and on her feet she wore flat-heeled brown buckskin shoes.

There emanated from her a current of overbearingness mixed with a suspicion of sadism, a refined charm that both drew one to her and chilled one.

She was smoking a cigarette, now and then shaking off nonchalantly its ashes with her very white hand which had purple-dyed finger-nails.

Lord Kelington, standing in front of her, was talking animatedly to her.

“Dear Miss von Berner, I have already hinted at the reason why I wished you to come here in the letter I sent you. I would need your services for a year at least, perhaps two, who knows, maybe more. Can you start at once?” 

The attractive girl smiled a whole row of cruel teeth.

“Certainly, Lord Kelington, and the proof is that I have brought along all my luggage, which is at the station — two trunks for my personal effects and a third one containing several disciplinary instruments, for, if I understand correctly, my task will be to bring up a young girl under strict discipline, am I right?”

“You are perfectly right. By the way, may I ask whether you still have the same methods of education which are, so to speak, your trademark?”

“Yes, I have.”

“I still recall perfectly the lord reminisced, “our first meeting which took place at my friend’s, Lord Delphy, and I shall never forget the original and delightful manner with which I surprised you for the first time. I was walking in the park when I saw you at a place where the path was curving, with your pupil, Lucy Mae Nerling, who was Lord Delphy’s ward. She was lying in front of you on her stomach on the graveled path. Her skirt and underskirt were pulled up above her waist and her drawers pulled down to her ankles — a rather odd position for a nineteen-year-old aristocratic girl. I also noticed that she was wearing a very strait-laced corset and that both her hands and her ankles were firmly shackled with steel bracelets. And you were giving her the best whipping I had ever witnessed. The poor girl was screaming her head off! I can still see the scene in my mind as fresh as if it had happened only yesterday. But what struck me most, was when I saw Lucy, after the whipping, thank you on her knees, on your order, for having punished her so well, and then kiss your feet. I understood then, Miss von Berner, how effective your teaching methods were.”

“That was nothing,” the young woman replied with an enigmatic smile “you could have seen much better than that.”

“That was when,” Lord Kelington went on, “my friend Delphy told me that you were a governess of a rather special kind and that you aimed to destroy completely the personality of Lucy Mae Nerling, to make her your slave so that her plentiful inheritance should go entirely to Delphy.”

Lord Kelington laughed and Dorothea blushed slightly.

“I was only doing my job of educator, milord. And Lord Delphy had promised me ten percent of the inheritance if I succeeded in my task.”

“And what happened to Lucy?”

“I got her tamed so well that it was impossible for her to resume her title and her place in society. Lord Delphy gave her to me as a present and I took her with me to London where she became my personal maid and she had to maintain the strictest discipline. Later, I got tired of her and I gave her away to a friend of mine, a wealthy American woman who was going back to the States. Then I learned in a letter from that friend that she had sold Lucy to an eighteen-year-old screen actress, a very attractive starlet, very promising, but extremely temperamental. She locked Lucy up in her Hollywood villa and used her as a slave, whipping her every morning before going to the studio merely to calm her nerves.”

“A fine resu1t Miss von Berner, a fine result indeed,” exclaimed Lord Kelington. “I see that girls who get put under your claws are definitely tamed and their personalities annihilated for ever, Well, I have a similar job for you and that is why I asked you to come. I am the legal guardian of a young girl called Mabel Sunway, a very pretty girl, aged seventeen and a half. She has been an orphan five years and was brought up in an expensive school in the suburbs of Paris. As she has now left that school, it is up to me to look after her till she is of age.”

He drew near Dorothea and lowered the tone of his voice.

“Now, when she is twenty-one, Mabel Sunway is to inherit a great fortune, something like a hundred thousand pounds. And I don’t want her to be able to use that money, do you get me?”

“I understand perfectly!” Dorothea exclaimed, with a cruel smile and almost licking her chops.

“If you succeed in reducing that girl to bondage,” Lord Kelington whispered, “I’ll give you ten percent of the heritage.”

“Agreed I And I can assure you that when your Mabel gets out of my hands she won’t have a will of her own to claim her money.”

“Fine!” the man exclaimed, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. “But I warn you, Miss Von Berner, your task won’t be an easy one. Mabel is pretty and has been brought up like a princess. She is high-handed and capricious, terribly snobbish and imbued with her rank and fortune. Besides, I believe she is very modern in outlook, independent and flirtatious and quite bold. It won’t be easy for you to tame her.”

“I’ll enjoy it all the more,” the beautiful governess said.

She got up from her armchair and walked up and down the room, which made her powerful hips move suggestively under her tight skirt

“I’ll tame her!” she exclaimed. “I’ll shower humiliations of all kinds upon her. I’ll tame her with the whip, with fetters, corsets, tight panties and all the ways and means I have at my disposal.”

“I trust you, dear Miss von Berner. As soon as my ward arrives I shall hand her over to you and depart for a long trip in Europe. I shall be back in about three months and during my absence you will be the absolute Master of the castle and you will have my faithful maid Bridget to help you in your taming work.”

“Be without fear, milord, when you come back home, Mabel will lick your boots and tell you that she is my lifelong slave and that she will submit to your authority as well as mine if I want it so.”

On hearing those words, Lord Kelington smiled with joy. He could not help admiring the calm assurance, the authority and marvelous beauty of this strange governess who dominated girls by means of whippings and made them her slaves. And, already, he was savoring the thought of the inheritance of pretty Mabel that would be entirely his.

That same day, at five in the afternoon, Mabel Sunway arrived in the mysterious castle. Her guardian had picked her up at the station and had been obliged to hire a small lorry to carry her numerous luggage.

Lord Kelington had not exaggerated — the young English girl was very pretty. Her almost eighteen years of age complexion was clear, cheeks blooming like apples, her nose so to speak, pert, very soft big blue eyes, pale blonde hair which made her look like one of those eighteenth-century paintings which are so delightfully charming.

She moved with incomparable grace and freshness. She was of medium height and her figure was admirable. She possessed a behind that jutted out provocatively and showed its curves under her dress with the suggestion of ripe cleavage in the middle.

She was dressed very smartly and Lord Kelington noticed that she wore a lot of make-up, even on her eyes. During the five years Mabel had spent in a French college, Mabel had received every month an important sum of money from the notary who looked after the heritage of her dead parents. She could use that money as she pleased and hence, her manners were free and high-handed and she had the insolent assurance of a very wealthy young girl who knows what money can buy.

Lord Kelington greeted her with simulated affection, but it did not deceive the young English girl. She did not like her guardian, although she had only seen him twice in her life. He seemed to her wicked and false.

“I’m so sorry,” the lord said, “but I can stay with you only till tonight and then I go away on a long trip. That is why, my dear, thinking that you would feel lonely by yourself in this big isolated estate, I have hired a governess to keep you company.”

Mabel’s eyebrows shot up suddenly.

“A governess? But, uncle, I am no longer of age to be ‘governed,’ don’t you think so?” 

“I’m afraid I was perhaps incorrect in my choice of words,” Lord Kelington said. “She’s more a companion than an actual governess, — a kind of friend, you see. I’m sure you will like her. She is a very attractive twenty-eight year old woman. And, even though you are up-to-date, I feel sure that you will learn something from her and that she will give you some precious advice.”

“I don’t need anybody’s advice!” Miss Sunway retorted proudly. “I was perfectly well brought up in France and I won’t tolerate anyone intruding into my private life.”

Lord Kelington realized that his ward would not be easy for anyone to govern. She really had a very strong personality for her almost eighteen years.

“Come, come,” he said genially, “we aren’t going quarrel on our first day together, are we? Do you imagine that I would impose upon you any kind of obligation? However, I would advise you not to act in such a spirit of revolt. When you are twenty-one, you will do what you please, but until then don’t forget that I am your guardian and that, according to the law, I have to look after you and your education.”

Mabel blushed. She knew that only too well. For three and a half more years she would have to live in this castle and curb her instincts of revolt. Besides, her guardian had the keys to where the money was and without money she could do nothing. So, on reflection, it was wiser to be more tolerant and accept the suggestions of this uncle of hers who, after all, might not be as bad as all that.

Lord Kelington understood that his ward was beginning to be more reasonable.

“Well, my dear Mabel, I have to say good-bye now,” he said in a kind voice. “You won’t be seeing your governess before tomorrow morning, for she has gone to town. Until then, make yourself at borne and do what you like. Bridget, the maid, will naturally be under your orders.”

He kissed her with affection and went out.

Alone, Mabel started thinking. It was hard for her to get used to the idea of having a governess. She was terribly independent and proud, and had so far been pampered and treated like the rich, noble girl she was. At college, she had, had very good friends who loved and admired her for she dominated them morally, and, although she was gifted in her studies, she did exactly what she pleased and not more. What she loved was before all, sport and pleasure. Very often, she went out to Paris with some of the girls and went so far as to go and have tea in some dancing cabarets. She was received in the best Parisian society and had experienced the joy of flirtation in more than one brilliant evening. All that was still in her mind, a delightfully fresh souvenir. But now, what was her life going to be like? How would she feel in this vast solitary castle, away from all pleasures, with an uncle whom she did not like and with a governess she had not asked for? Indeed, the future as not very smiling.

She vowed to herself that she would feign to accept this new life that they imposed upon her, but that all the time, she would react under the surface, striving to maintain intact her personality, that of a young and wealthy young girl, and never to let herself be dominated by these people whom she considered strangers.

Mabel was mulling over all that while unpacking her things and putting them away in the sumptuous room that had been given her, and this occupation distracted her from all her gloomy thoughts. Being very coquettish, she admired, one by one, the expensive dresses which had been made especially for her at the best places in Paris. With loving care, she put away in the cupboards all her silk blouses, frilly panties, stockings of the finest quality, brassieres, etc. She would soon show those Scottish people how a pretty young heir brought up in the luxury of Paris knows how to dress.

She had just finished putting her things away when she heard a knock at the door. It was Bridget. She was really pretty, that healthy-looking girl, in her silk pale blue dress, her lace apron and maid’s cap.

But Mabel gave her a despising look. Like many snobbish English girls, she had a high notion of the difference of social classes and despised domestics.

“You are Bridget, the maid, I take it?” she snapped out.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Has my uncle told you that you would be under my personal service during his absence?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. You’re going to start your service at once by bringing me my supper in this room. I do not want to go down to the dining room.”

“But, ma’am, I was just coming to tell you that dinner was served downstairs.”

“I don’t care. You shall serve it here. I want it so. Or are you going to discuss my orders?”

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry.”

Mabel did not notice the ironical smile on Bridget’s lips, for the maid had already talked with Dorothea von Berner and she knew perfectly well that the English girl would soon lose her arrogance.

But, with apparent submissiveness, she served Mabel’s supper in her room, and the aristocratic girl went so far as to oblige her to remain standing behind her chair during the whole course of her meal.

After supper was over, Mabel dawdled a little up her room. She got undressed and admired her naked body in the full-length mirror. She was very proud of that body of hers, with its fine breasts and plum round rump. She always took good care of her beauty and used all sorts of creams and skin treatments, as well as perfumes. As was the custom for her every evening, she spent nearly an hour in front of her dressing table. Then she put on en elegant silk pajama, lit a cigarette, played a few records on her gramophone, then suddenly, she felt the fatigue of her long trip and decided to go to bed.

In the darkness of her room, she lay for a while thinking again of the life that was awaiting her in this lonely castle and was again revolted by the idea of the governess imposed upon her. Then, vanquished by sleep, she stopped thinking and started dreaming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter II

 

The following morning Mabel was awakened by Bridget who was taking her breakfast up to her room. She stretched lazily, grunted and glanced at the clock. Then she sat up angrily.

“Eight o’clock! But are you mad? I had ordered my chocolate for half past ten. Is this the way you are carrying out my orders?”

Bridget put the breakfast plate on the table, without batting an eyelid.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but I only obeyed the governess’s orders. She told me to wake you up at eight o’clock.”

“The governess indeed! I won’t have anything to do with the governess! Are you under her orders or mine? You must obey me, understand? I’ll tell my uncle about this. You silly girl, you deserve to be slapped!”

Mabel was less furious at being awakened before time than at the thought of that governess, whom she hated beforehand, daring to rearrange her schedule.

“We’ll see who is the Master here, the governess or I,” Mabel said, “now go and prepare my bath!”

She got up, being too much aroused to stay in bed. She hurried over her dressing, boiling inwardly and impatient to have an explanation with this unknown woman who wanted to play tyrant with her.

An hour later, dressed in a ravishing dishabille of silk and lace, Mabel, sitting in front of her dressing-table, was putting some red stuff on her fingernails and thinking of all the words she would tell the blasted governess, words that would hurt and sting, when suddenly she was startled by the noise of the door opening. Furious that anyone should dare enter her room without knocking, Mabel raised her eyes and remained for a moment speechless with surprise: there stood a woman before her, and she guessed that she was the unknown governess. But she was quite different from what she had imagined her to be. Instead of an elderly woman with her hair made up in a bun and a frosty look, this governess was an elegant woman, as beautiful as a goddess, and she was looking at her despisingly and coldly from under her tortoiseshell spectacles.

Dorothea von Berner was wearing a white silk blouse which clung narrowly to the curves of her breasts, a black hobble-skirt which made her powerful hips stand out. Black silk stockings and high-heeled shoes completed the picture.

Mabel was astounded. So this was the young and pretty woman who had the cheek to want to regulate her private life!

“Dorothea von Berner, your educator. Your name is Mabel, isn’t it?”

The pretty English girl shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t have to give you any account of myself, nor to tell you my name. I have accepted from my uncle a companion, but by no means a governess or an ‘educator,’ as you say. And henceforth, I want you to mind your own business and to stop giving my maid orders contrary to mine.”

Dorothea did not answer. She just smiled ironically and, sitting near Mabel, she scrutinized her with her hard look. There was such a flame in those steel-like eyes that the young girl could not help blushing. It seemed to her that this feminine look was undressing her, touching her body, and it made her flesh shiver under her light dressing-gown.

“Eighteen years old almost,” Dorothea at last spoke in a slow voice, “not-yet eighteen and already so unbearably proud! You are lucky, Mabel, that I know you so little, or else I would have punished you — for your insolence. I can see through you though — a stupid spoiled girl, imbued with her rank and fortune, coquettish and profligate, in a word, badly brought up. But all that is going to change, my dear, I’ll see to that. Now that you are under my command you will become more than submissive and obedient to my orders. I shall tame you, Mabel. You don’t know yet how, but you will soon see! A girl like you should have a new education right from scratch, and I’ll take care of it. You will soon fear me and yet love me at the same time, you’ll see!”

White with rage, Miss Sunway had stood up, looking squarely into the face of the governess.

“Pending the realization of your predictions,” she hissed, “you will please get the hell out of here! As for me, I won’t stay one hour more in this confounded castle. At what time does the next train for London leave? I’m going to be on it, and away from your comedies and grimaces.”

Dorothea burst out laughing.

“So you would fly away, would you? Don’t you know that leaving the domicile of your guardian before you are of age would deprive you by law of all your fortune? And what would you do, all on your own, without money, I ask you? Anyway, I’d better warn you that the gate is locked and that the wall is fifteen feet high, which is a bit too much for a little creature like you. And, last but not least, what about the scandal? A young aristocrat escaping from her guardian’s house, what shame! You wouldn’t dare face anyone of your rank ever again.”

Seeing that Mabel found no reply to her arguments, the governess stood up and went away towards the door.

“Come, little girl, be reasonable, it will be better for you. And wait at least till your uncle comes back before making a decision. Meanwhile, get dressed — you’re almost naked!”

“I don’t mind getting dressed,” Mabel said with repressed anger, “but don’t expect me to obey you! Never, do you hear, never!”

“We shall see,” Dorothea answered calmly.

She went out of the room, taking the key with her to prevent Mabel from locking herself in.

Alone in her room, poor Mabel was about to give way to sorrow. But she was energetic and courageous so she drew back her tears, made up with care and got dressed. An hour later she was ready and she looked wonderful in a white dress drawn tight by a red leather belt, and elegant white buckskin shoes.

Then Dorothea came in again without knocking. Mabel walked back to the far wall, and her fists were closed in balls and her lips were a couple of white lines, so angry she was.

“Bravo!” the governess said with a smile. “You look pretty like this. Why don’t you speak? I’ll soon make you answer me when I talk to you, you’ll see.”

With calm, she sat down on an armchair, drawing up her skirt above her knees and revealing perfectly shaped legs.

“My dear child,” she said, “you must take the habit of considering yourself as a mere little child in front of me. I command, and you obey. That is your role... You aren’t very talkative, are you? From now on, you will have to tell me how your are dressed, in detail, every morning. Let’s see. What are you wearing under your skirt? A slip? A bra? A pair of silk panties? And how about your stockings, how are they fixed? Answer, Mabel, I’m listening!”

A long silence succeeded her words, Miss Sunway contented herself with shrugging her shoulders with contempt.

“You still persist in not answering, do you?” the educator went on, “So, I shall have to give you a more direct order. Lift up your skirt with your hands to show me what you are wearing underneath!”

Of course, Mabel did not move. So Dorothea stood up and walked up to her. Her steely eyes were glistening with anger under her spectacles and her pretty face was white and taut.

“This is to teach you to be more obedient!” She said, and she delivered a really smacking slap on the cheek of the girl who reeled under the shock and remained a few seconds speechless and too astounded to react.

When Mabel had recovered the momentary shock her eyes sparkled and all her pride surged up in her.

“You brute! Wicked woman! You’ll pay for that!” she said.

Miss von Berner shrugged her shoulders and said, between thin lips; “The only person who will pay is you, little fool, or rather it will be your behind! But I am prepared to be forgiving. I’m going to leave this room for five minutes. When I return I want to see you, with your skirt up to you waist, do you hear? And if you don’t do as I say, you will answer for the consequences!”

Without leaving any time for Mabel to answer, she got out of the room, locking the door behind her.

Locked up and powerless, the young English girl could no longer master her rage. She threw herself on the bed, kicking and pounding the pillow with her fists and sobbing uncontrollably.

When the door opened a few moments later and the governess appeared, Mabel got up, pale but defiant.

“Well, what about that skirt?” Dorothea asked calmly.

“I’ll never lift this skirt, do you hear?” the girl cried out, “You’re a wicked creature, an abominable rascal, and I’ll drag you before the courts! For the last time, I demand that you let me leave at once!”

The governess smiled sardonically.

“Very well, Miss Mabel Sunway, since you won’t obey of your own free will, I’ll make you obey by means of the whip!”

“The whip?”

“That’s right — the whip on your bare behind! I’m going to whip you like a baby, for all your seventeen years!”

She went towards the door and called out; “Bridget! Bring the silk cords and the dog whip!”

On hearing those words, Mabel became very pale. She no longer doubted now the awful reality, as she saw the servant enter, and she guessed that she had been standing for quite a while behind the door.

“Now, Bridget, “the governess went on, “you’re going to help me master this girl. We’re going to tie her up and make her submit to the punishment!”

The two women threw themselves on the unfortunate girl who did her best to fight, but Bridget was big and robust; as for Dorothea von Berner she was uncommonly strong, so both of them had little difficulty in reducing the English girl to impotence and they dragged her to the feet of a chair in spite of her cries of rage and her insults which she showered at her skirted executioners.

Mabel was laid on her stomach across the chair, her breasts on the seating part. They tied her hands to the legs on one side and her thighs to the legs on the other side of the chair. Her knees were on the floor but the upper part of her body was entirely fixed to the chair, allowing no possibility of movements.

“Cowards! Brutes! Dirty cowards!” Mabel howled, “let me go at once! I forbid you to treat me in this way!”

Dorothea calm and ironical got near the girl, so near that her perfumed skirt caressed her face.

“This is where disobedience has led you, Mabel!” she said. “Do you understand now that you are at my mercy and that I can do exactly what I please with you?”

And while she was speaking, she tugged violently at Mabel’s ears and even tried to fondle her face as if speaking to a dog, but the English girl, at the apex of rage, tried to bite her hand, so Dorothea went to the other side of the seat.

“You see,” she said, “what you were asked to show me of your own free will, you’ll have to let me see it all now. Now, do you feel the hands that are lifting up your skirt, do you feel them?”

At the same time, she seized Mabel’s dress and drew it back up to her waist, revealing the fat and magnificent behind of the girl, offering itself insolently, as it were, from its vantage position. It was clothed in a pair of pink silk panties decorated by fine lace.

“Gosh!” Dorothea mocked, “what pretty panties! Not tight enough to my liking, but we shall remedy that later. For the moment, I want to see your bare behind, your big buttocks which are going to be whipped so thoroughly!”

So saying, she undid the two buttons which tied the knickers round the girl’s waist. Then she drew them down to her feet and threw them away in a corner of the room.

As Mabel had not put on any stockings, she had no other garments left, and she was now offering to the mocking looks of her executioners, her nudity, her fat and white buttocks, with a skin smooth and flawless, were convulsively drawn together. Mabel whined with the shame of feeling the air caress the most intimate part of her anatomy.

“A fine behind indeed, fit to be whipped!” the governess said. “I’ll show you that, for a girl like you, discipline is to be administered almost exclusively on that side of your person.”

“You won’t dare,” cried Mabel, “you won’t dare touch me!”

“I won’t dare? You’ll see if I won’t!”

The governess grasped a heavy dogwhip, with its lash of plaited leather. She placed herself conveniently at some distance from her victim, then, with all her strength, she gave one lash on Mabel’s buttocks.

A long red weal could now be seen plainly on the wounded flesh.

Mabel had let out a shriek of pain and anger mixed with shame. She tried her best to move and nearly upset the chair on which she was tied.

“Bridget,” the governess ordered, “go and sit down on Mabel’s back — to prevent her from moving! But sit near her neck, so that there should be no risk of my hitting you with the whip.”

Bridget obeyed with joy. Her vulgar soul cruelly enjoyed humiliating that proud aristocrat who had been her Mistress only yesterday. She sat down heavily, weighing down on Mabel’s delicate breasts which crushed against the seat. Bridget was big and tall and weighed about thirteen stone. Under the weight of her enormous rump the young girl was half suffocating.

Then, with calm, Dorothea resumed the punishment. She lashed with all her strength and with a refined art that was the result of a long practice. Lifting her arm high up, she brought it down furiously and the end of the whip bit the flesh with a smacking sound. With her free hand the governess held up her own skirt up to her knees, to allow for a freer movement. With her pinched lips and her eyes sparkling with an evil glee, she seemed to derive a real physical enjoyment from the torture she was inflicting.

Ten lashes had left their traces on the soft behind of the girl who, stifled though she was under Bridget’s weight, still managed to howl and sob her head off.

Suddenly, Miss von Berner stopped and drew up her own skirt. Her voluminous rump was clothed with panties of pink silk stockinet drawn tight without a single fold against her skin and so tight that it seemed it was engulfed into the cavern in the centre.

She took off those panties with some difficulty as they were tightly drawn against her buttocks, then she walked towards Mabel and stood in front of her. She bent down in order to be face to face with her and told her

“You’re so noisy that I’m going to gag you with my panties. And you can consider it a great honor for a girl like you to have her face wrapped in the material used as a rule for my behind!”

Mabel was feeling with disgust the perfumed breath of the attractive governess on her tear-stained face. Then she was blinded and stifled with the pink panties which Dorothea fixed against her face with a string. The material was still warm with the feminine flesh and gave off such an odor that the English girl’s heart missed a beat.

Then the whipping was resumed. Dorothea was now striking with more rapid and violent movements. Mabel felt as if she would die. Her buttocks were afire and she waited for the next lash that would bite and sting. She felt above her the weight and warmth of Bridget whose heavy buttocks nailed her to the seat, and when she
wanted to howl, she was prevented from doing so by the beautiful governess’s panties which entered her mouth, stifling and blinding her abjectly.

Dorothea stopped only when her victim’s flesh started bleeding. She then threw away the whip, took off Mabel’s gag and put it on with calm, wicked laugh. She was holding in her hand a while the chin of the English girl, half unconscious, who was whining dully.

“Mabel Sunway”, she said in a slow voice, “do you now recognize that I am your all-powerful governess, and do you accept it? Do you submit to my authority? Answer!”

The young girl’s pride gave her a little strength, enough to answer; “Never, never! You’re a monster and I despise you!”

“Very well, I’ll take good note of it,” Dorothea said calmly. “Bridget, help me carry this revolting creature down to the cellar. We shall tie her to the rack which I prepared yesterday.”

The two young women untied the fetters of the unfortunate girl and helped her to walk or rather, carried her —so weak she was — through the dark passage of the castle.

In a small damp and cold cellar, there stood a rack, near the air vent. It was a curious instrument, consisting of a horizontal beam with four legs; something like a wooden horse with no head. Mabel was placed astride on it, and the wooden beam’s cutting edge hurt her flesh. She was forced to lie down on it full-length and they tied her body to the beam so that her bust was resting hard on it. Then they tied her four limbs to the legs of the instrument. This very painful position drew cries of pain from the girl, but Dorothea was not moved in the least. She addressed her victim in a dry despising voice.

“Mabel Sunway, I repeat again that I intend to have upon you a complete authority. You shall submit to it willy-nilly. I shall leave you here without eating or drinking until you have decided to recognize my right and authority to punish you. Bridget is going to administer more discipline to you shortly. She will start with ten stokes of a birch twig, next it will, be a cane, then the horsewhip, then, if need be, the knout and the stick. As soon as you have decided to obey me like a slave you will tell Bridget so, and she will deliver you to me. Until then I won’t hear from you!”

Having spoken, the governess went out, rolling her powerful hips and Bridget followed her.

Mabel remained alone, trembling with cold and fear, shaken now and then by pitiful sobs. She had no strength left to think nor to realize what was happening to her. All the events of the morning appeared to her like an awful nightmare. She recalled confusedly her past life, her young years of a free and happy girl, wealthy and triumphant with youth and beauty. Then, nearly at once the vision of Dorothea von Berner superimposed itself on the other thoughts, cancelling them out. Was that young and beautiful woman a demon, a fiend in human shape? What would become of her, a helpless creature, in the claws of this odious monster?

Her buttocks were giving her a lot of pain, and so did the cords that were tying her and the edge of the wooden beam that was cutting into the flesh of her breasts and sex. Was it really her, Mabel Sunway, being inflicted with such treatments? She, who a few hours earlier, was still a laughing and carefree girl, with her body clad in silk lingerie and smart dresses, and with her heart full of songs and laughter?

The entrance of Bridget pulled her abruptly out of her reverie. The maid, made up like a prostitute, was drawing towards her with a birch twig.

With her hands akimbo, she stood in front of her victim, mocking; “Well, Mabel, how are you, ducks? You’re not very proud now, are you? Not now that your big rump is bleeding. You wouldn’t dare order me about like you did last night, with your lah-de dah airs, eh? You, with your ‘my maid,’ ‘my orders,’ ‘do this, do that,’ you little bitch! Now everything’s changed and your buttocks will pay for your insolence.”

Pale with rage and humiliation the girl listened to this degrading speech. Her silence exasperated the maid.

“You see,” she went on mockingly, “how you are now at my mercy, you fair damsel! I can do what I please, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You know what? I’m going to spit on you, it’ll make me feel good!”

She bent down and spat out three times on Mabel’s face. Her saliva, mixed with lipstick, ran slowly down the wane cheeks of the girl and even soiled her mouth and eyes.

“Brute, dirty brute! You appalling creature!” whined Mabel. “I despise you! I hate you!”

“Well if that is so, as I don’t want to hear your whining and cursing, I’m going to gag you, just as my Mistress did a while ago! Yes, my dear, I’ll do you the great honor of putting your nose into my panties! And I even peed in them to humiliate you still more!”

So saying, the pretty maid had slipped her hands underneath her dress and untied her pale blue panties which she picked up from the floor. She folded them up carefully into a gag which she applied vigorously against Mabel’s mouth and nose. The damp panties gave off a powerful smell. The English girl gave a horrified start, but already Bridget was fixing the improvised gag firmly by means of a leather belt. Then she took hold of the birch twig, or rather several twigs bound together and started whipping Mabel’s buttocks with it.

The twigs bruised the girl’s bleeding behind, but this time, humiliation was still greater than the pain. Mabel felt the many wooden twigs break on her flesh with dry cracking sounds. It seemed to her as if she were being pricked with a thousand needles, and the damp panties of the maid, pressing hard against her mouth, prevented her from crying out loudly.

Bridget really whipped with a vengeance and gave more strokes than she had been ordered to.

But finally she left, disdainful, not without having gratified Mabel with a pair of hard slaps with her bare palm on top of her beaten bottom. Purposely, she forgot to undo the gag, so that the girl, had to have the unclean undergarment material against her face and in her mouth for the next two hours.

When these two hours were over, another whipping with twigs took place. Mabel’s rumps were in a pitiful state. But the proud English girl was not yet ready to capitulate. As Bridget asked her if she was willing to submit, she answered by shaking her head no, proudly.

The third beating was administered with a supple cane, which dug bloody furrows into the martyred girl’s buttocks. Mabel’s shrieking cries were stifled by the gag.

And thus she received two more whippings with the stick. At last, Bridget, mockingly announced that night was coming but that she promised her twenty strokes with a horsewhip for breakfast the next morning.

It would be impossible to describe Mabel’s night. She really suffered a lot, as can be imagined; abandoned in the cold damp cellar, with her buttocks aflame, her body immobilized in a painful position and her face in contact with the soiled piece of underclothes of the maid, she despaired and called for death rather than to endure such torture. Her sufferings had a terrible effect on her nerves, so overwrought and tired. During the long hours of the night she meditated on her situation. What could she do if not accept the bondage that was required of her?

Dawn found her vanquished and weakened. She was also beginning to feel deeply the pangs of thirst and hunger.

At last, she started as she heard steps, soon followed by Bridget’s voice: “Well, slave have you decided to submit to your Mistress?”

The word ‘slave,’ set up a reaction of revolt in the mind of proud Mabel. She had enough strength left to shake her head in refusal.

The maid laughed and Mabel suddenly felt the lash of a horsewhip on her buttocks. The girl had ever been horsewhipped before. Perhaps because it was striking already wounded flesh, the horsewhip made her suffer still more than the dog-whip, the birch twig or the cane.

Bridget horsewhipped her with all her strength. Mabel wanted to scream out and beg for mercy, but she was prevented from doing so by her gag and she had to endure the terrible punishment till the end. At last, Bridget stopped and asked; “And now, what have you decided?”

At the end of her physical resistance, the girl nodded her head quickly in submission, whereupon the maid delivered her from the underskirt and the panties that were imprisoning her head and, like a dream, Mabel at long last saw the light, and the first thing she saw was the vulgarly made-up face of Bridget who was looking at her with contempt.

“Slave,” the maid said; “have you decided to submit entirely to your governess, Miss von Berner?”

“I submit,” whispered Mabel, “but please don’t beat me anymore! Mercy! Mercy!”

Bridget shrugged her shoulders and unhurriedly untied the cords that were holding the girl against the rack. Then she stood her up and had to hold her up a few seconds for the girl’s legs were like cottonwool.

“Come, follow me!” she ordered.

Behind the maid who was holding her hand as a baby, Mabel painfully walked up the steps and along passages up to Dorothea von Berner’s door, who lived next to her own room, Bridget knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” the governess asked.

“It’s Mabel, Miss, she’s come to submit and I’m bringing her in.”

“All right, let her in!”

Trembling, Miss Sunway went into her Mistress’s room. It was a vast room, luxuriously furnished and cluttered with precious gewgaws. Silk dresses and underclothes were scattered on some pieces of furniture. Dorothea von Berner, sitting in front of her dressing table, wore a dressing-gown of black lace under which could be seen some patches of white flesh. She was not wearing any glasses and Mabel could not help noticing how beautiful she was.

“Get her on her knees, Bridget!” Miss von Berner said at last. “Make her kneel in a corner and keep an eye on her. I shall deal with her in a while. For the moment, I have my make-up to attend to.”

During a long quarter of an hour, Mabel had to wait on her knees, under the severe look of Bridget, until the governess deigned to give her, her attention. At last Dorothea stood up and walked up to her victim with a slow and voluptuous step.

“Well, have you decided to be submissive and obedient?”

“Yes.”

“Have you understood that your revolts would be of no use and that you are now under my discipline, and that you are but a naughty girl atoning for her past and being re-educated?”

“Yes.”

Mabel kept her head down, not daring look up into the face of the governess. She saw only her small feet shod in dainty shoes, and the hem of her perfumed dressing gown which was caressing her face.

“Tomorrow,” the governess went on, “your first day of discipline will begin, but before that, I shall give you a whole night in order to recuperate your forces. You will be locked up in your room and Bridget will bring you a hearty meal. You will have a bath and cure your behind with some salve which you will find on your bed table, and you will sleep. Tomorrow we shall see if your obedience is genuine and your submission total. Take her away, Bridget!”

Very humiliated, Mabel got up and followed the maid up to her own sleeping-room. Bridget brought up to her a tray containing a copious meal and withdrew after having locked up the door giving on to the passage, as well as the one which communicated with the room of the governess. Dazed with weariness and suffering and with her brain completely empty of thoughts the girl went to the bathroom, where she took a warm perfumed bath that acted like a balm.

Back in her room, she examined in a mirror her behind and nearly uttered a cry of horror when she saw its state — it was all crimson and streaked with red and bleeding lashes, and bluish with bruises in some parts. Alas, where was her pretty behind of yesterday which was her pride, so white, soft and plump? The girl almost cried at the sight of such a disaster. It took her more than an hour to apply salve with care and rub it in smoothly, and it relieved her pain a lot.

As she was looking for pajamas, she saw that nearly all her clothes had been removed from the cupboards and that her room had been cleared of all its unnecessary objects — the gewgaws, her gramophone, her cigarettes, the handbag into which she put her money, all that had disappeared. As for the cupboard and dressers containing her dresses and skirts, they were locked.

She managed to find a pajama in pink silk and a pair of panties which she padded with cotton-wool. It made her behind look oddly bumpy. Having donned her pajamas, she ate voraciously the meal that had been prepared for her and at last, broken up by lack of sleep and her suffering, she went to bed.

In her bed, she wept in big sobs like a child, then weariness had the better of her and she sank bite a deep sleep, agitated now and then by long nervous shudders.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter III

 

 

 

The following morning, Mabel was awakened by Bridget who entered her room at seven sharp. Of course, the maid had come in without knocking and looked very bold and insolent.

She walked up to the girl’s bed end briskly removed all the blankets and sheets.

“Get up, slave, and be quicker than that!” she ordered.

Mabel’s first reaction was to revolt — she was still half asleep.

“I won’t allow this way of treating me”, she said.

“Slap!” went Bridget’s hand on her cheek. “You don’t have to allow this or that!” Bridget admonished. “From now on you are a slave and nothing else. Miss von Berner said you had to obey, so you’d better get up unless you want me to get the horsewhip.”

That argument was very convincing and beat down the girl’s resistance, for she still had the smarting remembrance of yesterday’s punishment.

So she got up abruptly in spite of the pain still vivid on her buttocks and stood awkwardly in front of the maid, intimidated and not knowing what to do next.

“You are not to wash before the governess says so. You’ll just comb your hair and put some make up on to appear presentable when your Mistress comes to visit you. And you will have to be completely naked when she comes in, understand?”

As Mabel was not answering, Bridget slapped her face again.

“Answer; ‘Yes, ma’am!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“All right, slave, do as I told you!”

The maid left the room without looking back and Mabel began to understand with dismay how humiliating her life was going to be from now on. But, heedful not to be punished again, she did as she was ordered. She combed her hair and made up her face, then she took off her pajamas and her padded panties. She looked at her behind in the mirror and was surprised to find that the swelling and the bruises had vanished. Thanks to Miss von Berner’s miraculous salve, her behind had resumed its normal aspect, although there still remained a trace of the beatings in the way of a rosy hue crisscrossed by reddish weals.

Mabel’s intention was to remain naked as she had been ordered to, but suddenly a kind of shame took hold of her. For all her modern and bold outlook on life, she still remained a modest girl in that she would never show off her naked body. So, nearly instinctively, she took a dressing-gown and wrapped her body in it. Then he sat on the edge of the bed with her heart beating hard with the fear of the consequences her disobedience would entail.

Dorothea von Berner went into the room and Mabel stood up suddenly and walked back against the far wall, just like a lion in front of its tamer, and she fixed the governess with wide-open eyes. She could not help noticing again how wonderfully beautiful she was.

Dorothea was already coiffured and made up with care. Her mouth, daubed with lipstick, had taken up an evil expression. Behind her tortoiseshell glasses her steely eyes sparkled vividly. She was dressed in a Japanese kimono and round her waist there was a varnished leather belt. She did not seem to be wearing anything underneath. Her beautiful sun-tanned legs were likewise bare; as for her feet, they were shod in high-heeled red slippers.

Mabel noticed with fright that the governess was holding a horsewhip in her hand and that she was tapping the end of it nervously against her slippers.

Looking at Mabel fixedly, the attractive governess walked slowly up to her.

“A slave should get down on her knees,” she said briskly. “when her Mistress does her the honor of entering her room. From now on, if you forget to do so, you will get ten lashes on your breasts. I condescend not to punish you for this once, since you didn’t know. Go on, bitch, on your knees!”

Tamed, more dead than alive, the pretty English girl slipped to the floor on her knees.
“Kiss my feet in submission!”

Forgetting her pride and shame, Mabel bent down and placed her trembling lips on the varnished slippers before her.

Dorothea turned round her victim and examined her with attention.

“If I am not mistaken, you were ordered to appear naked before me. Why haven’t you obeyed?”

“I don’t know,” the girl whispered bashfully.

The governess slapped her face violently.

“Be polite and answer ‘I don’t know, Mistress!’ ”

“I don’t know, Mistress,” Mabel repeated.

“From now on,” Dorothea went on, “you will have to call me, ‘Mistress,’ all the time and you shall be punished every time you forget to. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And now, since you have kept on this dressing-gown against by orders, you will be punished.”

“Oh no, Mistress, please don’t!”

“Silence!” Dorothea said in a loud voice, “you must speak only when I ask you to. Must we flay you alive to show you that you are a slave in need of discipline? Come on, take off your dressing-gown, and quickly!”

Already, tears of despair were welling up in Mabel’s eyes. She now had the impression of living an awful nightmare. She took off her dressing-gown and her splendid nudity appeared.

Meanwhile Dorothea had sat down on a chair.

“Come up to me,” she ordered, “and lie down on your stomach across my knees! As I don’t want to be too harsh for your still sore bottom, I shall spank you with my bare hand, like a baby.”

Poor Mabel took up with shame the position that had been indicated to her. What a terrible humiliation for an almost eighteen-year-old girl to find herself, thus all naked across the knees of her governess and to present her behind to her!

Dorothea understood perfectly her slave’s feelings, for she talked to her while slapping violently her buttocks with the palm of her right hand.

“Take this, and that, and that, you bad, naughty girl! Do you feel your spanking? Aren’t you ashamed to be spanked as if you were four years old? (slap, slap!) I know how to tame you, do you hear me? You shall become a thing without a will of her own and without any pride at all. This is the way to treat bad girls like you, modern girls who believe themselves infallible, this is the way — by spanking their bare bottoms!” (slap, slap, slap!...).

And, as he talked, she smacked vigorously the girl’s naked behind. The noise was characteristic and echoed in the room. It was more humiliating than really painful, although, little by little, all the pain of the day before was reawakened by the violent slaps.

At last the governess stopped and placed her pupil on her knees before her and gave her, her perfumed white hand to kiss.

“Kiss my hand,” she ordered, “kiss the hand that has just spanked you and is still warm with the contact of your bare buttocks! And thank me for this punishment; I hope it will be profitable and that thanks to my energetic care you will soon become the good and docile girl I want you to be.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you, Mistress,” Mabel whispered, with no revolt left in her.

“And now we shall deal with your toilet. Bridget will give you a hand and from now on she will wash and clothe you every morning. Every day at half past eight you will come to my room to wish me a good morning and you will show me if all your clothes are in order. Bridget, is Mabel’s bath ready?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Good! Follow me, Mabel!”

The girl followed her Mistress into the bathroom where Bridget, with her eyes glistening with an evil glee, was awaiting them.

“Come, step into the bath, quickly!” the governess ordered, pointing at a bath of steaming water.

Mabel wanted to obey, but she screamed: the water was much too hot and she had burned her foot with it. But Dorothea lashed her shoulders with two strokes of the horsewhip.

“Don’t make any fuss! I demand that your baths be like this always, for hot water melts down rebellious minds. You will have to get used to it!”

Grimacing with pain, Mabel got into the water. She was very sensitive and her delicate skin was hurt with this harsh treatment.

“Bridget,” Dorothea told the maid, “every morning you will cheek Mabel’s bath and see that she washes very carefully. Then you will dress her up in the clothes I shall indicate and you will send her to me at eight thirty so that I can see the result.”

She came nearer the bath.

“Go on,” she told Mabel, “lather energetically, your face and neck! No, better than that, if you don’t want us to whip you! More... now those breasts, one after the other! Stand up now! Rub your stomach! Come on, lower, don’t be afraid to rub your sex and also your behind. You must be kept scrupulously clean and I’ll see to it, you can depend on it! No! Better than that in between your cheeks! Put some soap on a finger and drive it in deeply! That’s an order! Right, that’s good! The thighs now, and the legs... your feet, come on, put some soap between each toe! All right, that will do, make a dip into the water... and now get out!”

Mabel had obeyed all the orders mechanically. She realized that she could not resist and that even her most intimate gestures were now controlled by that terrible disciplinarian Dorothea.

After the girl had dried herself in towels, her Mistress ordered her to lie on a couch which was in the bathroom.

“Come and help me, Bridget,” she said, “we’re going to rub this girl with a horsehair glove.”

That was another torture for the English girl, for the two women, each armed with a sharp horsehair glove, began rubbing with such energy, that she could not help fidgeting and screaming. So she was tied onto the couch with cords and the operation was resumed.

“And now,” the governess said to her victim, “I’m going to depilate you. I see you are depilated perfectly under the arms but there is some more hair I want to remove.”

And so saying, she seized a handful of blond hair between the legs of the girl.

“When I have removed this,” Dorothea went on, “your femininity will be much more attractive and besides, I can check its cleanliness better. Also, since I intend giving you the discipline of tight drawers, the material of the panties will cling all the better to your intimate flesh if the unwanted hair is removed.”

Mabel could not understand the full meaning of those words. What did the governess mean, with her talk of tight drawers and depilation? The poor girl was not going to he left in ignorance very long, for already Dorothea was coming back with scissors and depilating tongs, as well as a small shearer. She sat down on a chair by the patient and then proceeded patiently and carefully to shear the hair between the girl’s legs. Mabel felt outraged in her womanly dignity. Helpless, tied down onto the couch, there was nothing she could do and she was really at the mercy of the governess. Miss von Berner’s agile fingers came and went on her intimate flesh, palpitating and tapping it as she pleased. First, she used the scissors then the depilating tongs to tear off the hair… which was very painful… then the shearer finished off the work. It seemed to Mabel as if she was being mutilated or raped. The work lasted more than an hour. At last the governess stood up with a satisfied smile.

“Ah, this is really the sex of a slave as it should be! Every week you will be sheared so that you should never have a hair on your femininity.”

She untied the bonds of the girl and obliged her to look at herself in the mirror. The sight of her flesh all bare, soft and velvety like a seashell, made Mabel whine with despair. She was so proud of her silky blond down! It seemed as if she had gone back to infancy and as if her dignity of a woman had vanished forever.

“And now, the make-up!” shouted the governess, “I want you to be always made up with care, for I like having a pleasant face in front of my eyes. Sit down in front of the dressing- table and don’t move, or else, the whip!”

Armed with crayons, salves and pomades, the beautiful Dorothea started making up her slave. She lengthened Mabel’s eyebrows, dabbed some black on her eyelids, gave a glisten to the eyelashes, then puffed rouge on her cheeks, lipstick on her lips, and placed two artificial beauty-spots on her face, one at the corner of the eyelids and the other near the lips.

Mabel had lost her aspect of well-to-do girl, but had lost nothing of her beauty. Made up thus, she looked like a delightful doll or a young girl thrown too early into the commerce of love.

“Come now, into your room!” the governess ordered, “we’re going to clothe you!”

With her heart beating with apprehension the girl obeyed and walked to the next room. There, Dorothea opened the locked cupboards and Mabel saw that her articles of dressing seemed to be complete and that there were even some more clothes added to them which she had not seen before.

“Here,” the governess explained “is your underclothing. Bridget has spent one and a half days modifying it according to my instructions. That was very kind of her, to work for a bitch like you! So, kneel down before her and kiss her feet, and thank her to have worked so hard for you!”

The English girl hesitated a few seconds but the lash of the whip obliged her to do her humiliating duty. She went near the maid who was looking at her with a mocking smile and knelt down before her. Bridget had lifted up her dress a little and was pointing imperatively at her foot. Deeply blushing with shame, Mabel kissed the varnished shoe of the maid.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Thank you who?”

“Thank you, Bridget!”

“Not at all!” cried Miss von Berner. “You owe Bridget the greatest of respect and henceforth you are of a social rank much lower than hers. I demand that you should address her as “Your Ladyship,” and that you should talk to her in the third person. Besides, she will have the right to order you about and to punish you as she pleases. And, to chastise you for having been insolent to her on the evening of your arrival, you will from now on become her maid. Tell her so politely and thank her!”

That was the hardest humiliation that the aristocratic English girl had ever suffered.
She bottled up her anger and said in a voice hardly audible; “Thank you, I am your servant.”

“Bridget,” asked Dorothea, “don’t you think Mabel has just made a mistake?”

“Yes, ma’am, she said “you” to me.”

“Well, punish her by slapping her face!”

The servant did not need a repetition of the order and slapped the pretty face of her former Mistress with vim.

“And now, you shall tell Bridget exactly these words : “I thank your Ladyship for having modified my underclothing. I submit to the orders of your Ladyship, and I ask your Ladyship whether she condescends to take me as a maid.”

Mabel, crimson with shame, repeated the sentence.

“I condescend,” Bridget answered with haughtiness, “and henceforth, I consider you as my slave.”

“Stand up,” Miss von Berner ordered, “we’re going to dress you up.”

The governess had just taken out of a cupboard a strange corset in black varnished leather with several steel buckles. She showed it to her victim.

“My girl, you’ll have to get used to wearing corsets,” she said. “A slave being educated must feel well maintained, in a way a prisoner of her own clothes. Wearing a corset will make you stand erect, it will give you a bigger buttocks and will make your breasts jut out and remain firm. I’ll have you wear more and more severe corsets, until you have a fifteen-inch waistline.”

Mabel had become pale on hearing those words.

“Oh, Mistress, please, not that!” she begged.

“Do you want a whipping? Who authorized you to speak? Come up here and shut up!”

Trembling, the girl obeyed. Then Dorothea applied on her stomach the corset of discipline. The contact of the varnished leather on her bare flesh caused her a strange sensation. The corset was relatively short, covering only the stomach and abdomen. It was laced in the back all along and left the breasts entirely free, pushing them up, which made their tips point up towards the sky. As for the rump, it was completely disengaged, for the stays stopped right at the small of the back. Mabel noticed that the instrument was supplied with about forty small buttons or knobs which formed a kind of belt around it. Besides, one inch above those buttons there was a small hook and another behind.

Dorothea was standing behind Mabel, and tugging with all her strength on the cords of the stays, tightening them to the utmost. The girl felt the leather sheath gradually close in upon her, pressing on her abdomen, crushing her stomach, making her gasp.

“Mistress,” she moaned, “Mistress, I beg you!”

The governess slapped her hard.

“Not a word out of you! Will you ever behave?”

The tightening proceeded. Now poor Mabel had the impression of being crushed in a vice. Her rump, thrown back, jutted out insolently and her abdomen was flattened by the varnished leather. The torture was intolerable and the girl started moaning. But Dorothea, far from being moved, only shrugged her shoulders.

“You’ll get used to it,” she said philosophically. “And now, the drawers!”

She rummaged in a cupboard and took out a pair of pink panties of silk and lace which was one of the best pieces of underclothing which the pretty English girl owned. The governess showed them to her.

“You see, your panties have been readjusted by Bridget — they are much narrower now.”

“But, Mistress, my panties were already very tight...”

“First of all, I don’t want any remarks from you, and next, if I wanted them tighter, I had a good reason for it, so you don’t have anything to say. A girl being re-educated must have her behind kept extremely tight. She must feel the material hampering her every movements. I have already told you, Mabel, that it is by concentrating on your behind, that I shall make you lose all your personality. Not only will it have to be whipped often, but it must feel as if it were imprisoned. Understand once and for all, that not only your brain but also your sex and behind are under my absolute government. Every second of your slave’s life, I want you to feel that your flesh belongs to me and that I am imposing it a discipline and a law. Now, put on these panties, and beware you don’t tear the silk!”

Red with shame, Mabel took the tiny panties and did her best to put them on. They were too tight and she was very much afraid to tear it by slipping them up her thighs. It became much more of a problem when it came to the behind: her buttocks could not tighten themselves sufficiently to allow an adequate passage into the silken prison. But at last, helped by two or three lashes of the horsewhip, she managed. Her rumps were so tight and the material sticking so much against them, that it felt like a second skin. Her sex was bruised by the silk pulling and stretching over it, and the panties penetrated into the cleavage of her buttocks as deeply as possible and she experienced a burning sensation.

Then Mabel understood the use of the forty white buttons that adorned her corset, for Bridget had sewn forty corresponding buttonholes all around the waist of the drawers. One after the other they were tied and then the panties were hermetically held up in position without any possibility of movement and drawn upwards still more although that seemed impossible.

The poor English girl felt extremely uncomfortable. She did not dare make any brisk move for fear of tearing the material which molded itself to her. Encompassed by her panties and stays, she walked with dainty steps and feared the moment when she would have to sit down.

Yet she was not yet at the end of her torments.

“That’s not all,” Miss von Berner said, “you aren’t sufficiently imprisoned between your legs. We’re going to strap you.”

She took out of a cupboard a wide tape of varnished leather with a hook at each end. It was put upon her like a hygienic towel, with one end fixed to the stays in front and the other behind, by hooks. It was applied with extreme tightness, crushing her sex and driving into the cleavage of her buttocks. Mabel felt awfully strapped and harnessed.

Dorothea threw her a pair of fine black silk stockings.

“Sit down and put these on!” she ordered.

To sit down, there was the rub! With infinite precautions, the girl bent gradually down, feeling her stays pressing hard against her stomach and the strap between her legs hurting her. The panties did not tear, but Bridget and the governess burst out laughing at the spectacle of the slave’s efforts not to tear them.

When Mabel had put on the stockings, they were fixed by garters of red satin with ornaments in the shape of little knots, which were tied tightly round her thighs.

Dorothea now produced a pair of strange-looking shoes, high boots of varnished leather with 1aces and heels about four inches high.

“You’ll have to get used to high heels that will oblige you to hold yourself straight,” the governess said.” I’ll make you wear some that are five or six inches high. Now you’re going to wear these high boots which will train you and discipline your calves.”

It was true. The varnished boots imprisoned Mabel’s legs very closely. Besides which, they were at least one size too small and hurt the delicate feet of the poor English girl.

Dorothea obliged her to walk round the room ten times. She was so tightened up on all of her body by the different garments that she walked stiffly like a robot. She was egged on however, by whip lashes and now and then she let out a sob of despair.

But the dressing up was not finished. It was completed by pink silk cammy-knickers which the girl had to slip on over her stays. They, too, had been shortened and tightened by Bridget and molded narrowly all the contours of her body stopping just underneath the knees.

Then the girl was made to put on a white silk blouse and a very tight black skirt closed in front from top to bottom by a row of buttons.

“I hope,” the governess mocked, “that you feel well disciplined in your clothes. Wearing very tight clothes is the best way to peg down your excessive pride.”

She walked up to her victim.

“Put your hands behind your back!” she snapped.

Mabel, trembling, obeyed and Dorothea put the girl’s palms together and tied them up with a string.

“You will always have your hands tied,” she ordered, “except when I need you for some domestic work. You must get used to no longer having any personal initiative and to be only a machine that carries out my orders when, how, and the way I want you to.”

She then saw that Mabel seemed to be ill-at-ease and that she was moving from one foot to the other.

“Well, what’s the matter with you, what are you dancing about for?”

“Excuse me, Mistress,” the girl said awkwardly “but I would like to... I need to go to...”

“To what? Explain yourself clearly!”

“To the toilet,” the girl said, blushing.

During the time she had been a free girl, she had always hated mentioning such things. An extreme modesty paralyzed anything that concerned these bodily needs.
But Dorothea was not such a prude.

“To pee, or for something else?” she asked.

“Both, Mistress!”

“How many times a day do you usually go to the toilet?”

Blushing hard, the girl thought for a moment. “About six or seven times, Mistress,” she answered.

“Well, from now on, you shall go only twice, once in the morning and once in the evening. It’s an excellent exercise of discipline for a girl being re-educated to have a physical need she is not allowed to satisfy. Every morning and evening, when you feel the need coming, you will ask Bridget very politely. If she deems it necessary, she will then give you her permission and accompany you to watch the operation. For this time I advise you to have patience for you will only be allowed to go after about an hour or two from now.”

Those words left Mabel dumbfounded and even appalled. The idea that her governess should control even those things revolted her deeply. In spite of her submission and the fear of the whip she was about to revolt and insult her torturer. But, once more, the fear of the consequences made her keep silent.

Miss von Berner had gone out for a while. She came back holding three huge photos. They were three pictures of herself… one whole-length, in a suggestive bathing-suit which molded her voluptuously sculptured body; the second one in riding-trousers and with a riding-crop in her hand; the third was a larger-than-life portrait where Dorothea appeared very beautiful, with a cruel and domineering expression and the steely glint of her eyes. She placed the three photos on the cupboard and laid before them a horse-whip and a dog-whip.

“From now on,” she said, “these photos will remain in your room and I want you to learn to contemplate them with respect and adoration, for not only do I want you to fear me, but also to love me, with an abject, groveling love. The love of a slave for her Mistress, the All-Mighty one. Now your future schedule will be this (until, at least you have become a well-trained slave): it will begin with one hour of worship and prayers. You will kneel in front of my photos and, while you contemplate how you can please and improve your behavior toward me, you will pray to God that he give you a supple and docile soul and that he should help you to atone for your faults and the insolence of your past life You will pray to me, too, for you must get it into your head that I am your All, and you are nothing. Yes, I know, you won’t have such thoughts in the first few days, but, thanks to my education there will come the moment when your adoration for me will be natural and genuine and you will pray to me as to a Goddess without my having to order you to do so.”

Mabel listened to her with awe and fright. She wondered whether the governess was insane and whether her folly would gradually gain in upon her. She read in the eyes of the beautiful Dorothea a kind of sadistic expression which acted upon her like a mysterious magnet. Almost mechanically she knelt in front of the photographs.

“I shall leave you to your worship,” Dorothea went on. “If you have moved but half an inch when I come back, you shall be cruelly punished. And try to hold back the need you mentioned just now because Bridget, before leading you to the toilet, will inspect your underclothes, and if ever they are found to be damp you will be whipped on your bottom till blood comes.”

Miss von Berner beckoned to Bridget and both women left the room, locking it up behind them. When she was alone, Mabel believed she would stifle with rage, humiliation and despair. But what could she do? There she was, with her hands tied behind her back, kneeling like the most abject of slaves. She felt, all along her body, the corset that squeezed her under her skirt, and her legs and thighs were likewise imprisoned. Those terrible stays were cutting into her skin and the too narrow panties, made narrower still by the leather strap, bit into her tender woman-flesh.

She was about to cry and sob to calm her despair. Then she thought about the two different whips in front of her eyes, which seemed to have eyes of their own to witness her undignified position, and also the three photographs of her domineering Mistress which fascinated her with the gleaming expression of her steely-grey eyes and with the sensual power of her beautiful body.

Her physical need tortured her. The thought that she would not be able to satisfy it without Bridget’s permission was driving her crazy. She was about to let go and drop everything in her panties, but the shame and the fear of the punishment obliged her to control herself.

It seemed impossible that so many obligations and constraints should not bring Mabel to rebellion. The girl gnashed her teeth and her eyes were brimful of tears. It was too much—better to be dead than reduced to such an abject state.

Thus an hour passed, an awful hour which saw now the despair, now the revolt of the poor girl.

Then Bridget came in. She had a mocking expression on her face and she walked up to her victim in a wiggling movement.

“Well, slave, still have your need?” she asked.

Her assurance and haughtiness were stronger than Mabel’s pride.

“Yes, Your Ladyship,” she said, casting down her eyes.

“And, no doubt, you would like me to take you to the toilet?”

“Yes, Your Ladyship.”

“Maybe,” Bridget said with cruelty, “we’ll see if you deserve it. Get up!”

Painfully, the girl stood up.

“You haven’t wetted your drawers, have you?” the maid asked.

“No, Your Ladyship.”

“We shall see.”

With slow movements, Bridget lifted Mabel’s skirt and cammy-knickers. She lifted the strap in front. Then she crouched down and inspected with care the girl’s drawers at the precise spot in which her femininity was slightly bulging under the adhering material. The maid, with malicious pleasure, even put her hand to it, palpating the fruit of love a long while to make perfectly sure there was no dampness. Mabel’s shame was immense to feel herself being touched thusly without her being able to prevent it.

At last, Bridget appeared satisfied with her check.

“All right,” she said, “you’ve been a good girl. Walk in front of me!”

She had taken a horsewhip with her and gave little strokes with it on the girls calves to make her walk more quickly. She made her go into the water closet and locked herself up with her. There, she again lifted up the skirt and underskirt of her captive and untied her hands. “Down with your panties!” she ordered, “undo them.”

That was not easy at all, for Mabel had to unbutton forty buttons which tied her drawers to the hooks on her stays. In spite of her haste, she was given a violent stroke of the whip on her breasts to punish her for being too slow.

Having at last taken off her panties, the girl had then to hold up her skirts and sit on the seat under the mocking eyes of Bridget who was watching every one of her moves. Awfully mortified, the poor slave had to relieve herself and let a few incongruous noises escape, which made the maid burst out laughing.

“Now, wipe yourself up!” Bridget ordered. “And do it well, for you’ll have to show me your arse before putting back on your panties!”

Showing her anus…! Would no humiliation be spared her? She had to drink the bitter cup to the lees.

With her skirts held high up, she had to bend down towards Bridget and draw her buttocks well apart to let the maid inspect her most intimate parts at her leisure.

“All right, you may button yourself up!”

The discipline drawers were put on again and fixed with the forty white buttons, then, on top of them, the cruel strap.

“You know what,” Bridget said with a smile, “it’s a pity I don’t feel like it, or else I would have obliged you to wipe me up. That’s what you will soon do, I can tell you, for you’re my slave and I can do what I jolly well please with you, can’t I?”

She tied Mabel’s hands behind her back so tightly that it hurt the girl’s delicate wrists.

Outside the toilet, she gave an ultimate humiliation to her slave.

“Kneel down before me,” she ordered, “Thank me and kiss my feet.”

Mabel hesitated a second but a powerful pair of slaps made her obey. She humbly kissed the maid’s feet and murmured; “I thank Your Ladyship for Her having accompanied me to the toilet.”

Satisfied, Bridget ordered her to stand and walked back with her to her room. Then she knocked on the door of the neighboring room and reported everything to the governess.

“Very good, Bridget, I thank you,” Dorothea said. “Mabel’s schedule now indicates an hour’s walk before lunch. You will accompany her. Lift up her skirts to her waist and fix them with safety-pins, so that you can lash her bottom if she doesn’t obey you. Fix a leash to the hook that maintains the strap in the back, and so you can walk her before you without untying her hands. Make her walk erect, with head very high and her breasts thrust forward. And make her run a little to teach her to get used to her boots.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you,” Bridget answered joyously.

Mabel had heard all that with dismay. She trembled at the thought of being given again to the cruel servant as a toy.

Five minutes later she was in the park, with her skirts lifted up high, exposing her bottom shrouded in clinging silk and strapped with the wide leather tape. Bridget was walking behind her, holding her on a leash fixed to the back hook of her corset. Almost uninterruptedly, she lashed her with light strokes and gave her orders:

“Hold your head high and your body erect! Better than that, slave! Thrust forward your teats And your bottom backwards, offer it well to my whip! Draw in your belly! Stare right in front of you, straighten your neck! You little bitch, I’ll teach you how to walk!”

With tears in her eyes the poor girl tried her best to obey. She was completely tamed, vanquished by this very tiring walk. Thus she covered the shaded walks of the park without hearing the blessed song of the birds in the sun mottled foliage. Her imprisoned feet hurt her terribly, rolling on the gravel of the walks, and she almost twisted her ankles at every step, so high were her heels. It became worse when Bridget, with violent whiplashes, obliged her to run. Whipped furiously, Mabel made superhuman efforts, tripping very often and tortured by her stays which drove into her skin.

“Stop!” Bridget cried at last.

The maid, tired from the long run, wanted a rest. She saw a good spot of mossy grass in the shadow of a large tree and sat down on it with a sigh of satisfaction.

“Lie down at my feet, slave!” she ordered.

The girl obeyed with gusto, being happy to rest her weary limbs. Bridget, sitting at a slightly higher level, had drawn her knees inwards and hitched up her own skirt, thus affording the sight of her undies. Mabel glanced at the fat white thighs of the maid, with the black satin garters and the clinging pale silk panties, perhaps the same ones which had served to gag Mabel the other day!

“Well,” Bridget said suddenly, “why are you staring up my skirts? Is my bottom fascinating to you? You see, it’s sti1l bigger then yours, but then mine is that of a free woman that has never been whipped and never will be! Now, kiss it, I allow you to!”

Mabel, revolted at the very suggestion, stood up abruptly in spite of her new spirit of submission. Never, oh, never, would she stoop so low!

But Bridget, furious, lashed her cruelly and the stroke caught her on the dainty pink tips of her breasts. The girl howled with pain.

“Slave, I order you to kiss my bottom at once! Obey, if you don’t want me to tear your breasts to pieces with the whip! Quick, put your head underneath my skirts!”

Any resistance was out of the question. With a sob of despair, Mabel bent down and slipped under the maid’s dress. Her tied hands hampered this operation and the weight of her own body drew her forward and she fell headlong ending up with her lips against Bridget’s panties, at the precise spot where the femininity bulged under the thin material.

The servant, lying down lazily on the grass, had crossed her legs in a knot round her victim’s neck and, with a sadistic and voluptuous smile, she seized Mabel’s hair and crushed her face against her fruit of love.

“Kiss, slave, kiss well!” she ordered. “And draw out your tongue, so that I should feel the caresses, through my panties!”

With her mind in a whirl, Mabel felt like a drunken girl. A Lesbian against her wishes, she had to kiss this domineering pair of knickers and she felt the hairy spot soften and become wet under her tongue.

“You see,” Bridget mocked, “I’m not depilated! It’s for a slave like you to be depilated…! Continue slave, quicker, harder! Stop only when I order you to…! Enough, now, go down lower and kiss my arse! There, that’s fine, put your face against it…! Stop now, I’ve had enough. Get out of there!”

Red and disheveled, Mabel came out of her warm prison and in her haggard eyes there flashed some glints of madness.

Next, the servant ordered her to lie full-length on her back, and she sat down on her breasts, reveling in the pleasure of crushing down under her heavy bottom the pretty breasts of the girl. Stifled and bruised, Mabel sighed but Bridget laughed, fit to burst.

“Now, this is a very fine cushion for the bottom of a mistress. I’ll use it frequently d’you hear, slave?”

“Yes, Your ladyship,” Mabel whispered, gasping.

At last, the maid got up. She took the leash and the riding-crop and took the prisoner running up to the castle. Mabel arrived there in an indescribable state of depression and fatigue. Bridget allowed her to lie on the bed until lunch time, but she did not untie her hands.

That was another torture: having her arms kept behind her back for long periods of time and her wrists tied tightly— it became gradually more and more painful.

It was the governess who came to fetch her, half an hour later. She wore a white skirt and a red silk blouse. As it was very hot she was not wearing any stockings, and on her feet were spotless white buckskin shoes.

As she saw her come in, Mabel’s first thought was to stay on her bed without moving, but Miss von Berner’s steely stare was so hard that she got up quickly, knelt down and kissed her governess’s feet.

“That’s good,” she said, “I see you’re beginning to know your part.”

She pushed in front of her the girl up to the dining-room where stood a huge table richly laid up. Bridget was already waiting to serve the hors-d’oeuvre.

Mabel cast a look around and trembled when she saw the seat that was reserved for her— it was a chair like the others, with the only difference that the padded seat had been replaced with a very harsh horsehair cushion.

“At each meal,” the governess announced, “you will sit on this discipline chair until your education is completed. But first, we shall take off your drawers in order not to damage them.”

Aided by Bridget, she lifted up the girl’s skirts, unbuckled the strap and undid the many buttons of the panties which she took off and cast away. Then she forced Mabel to sit on the chair, maintaining her skirts lifted up. The contact of her already bruised bottom with the hard horsehair, the bristle of which drove into her naked bottom-skin, made her moan with pain. “Mercy, Mistress,” she cried, “I haven’t done anything wrong, have?”

“I know you haven’t done anything wrong,” Dorothea said sarcastically. “This seat is not a punishment. I only want your bottom to submit to a continual discipline until you are completely educated. The pain produced by the horsehair will make you forget the pleasures of the meals. Besides, you should realize that you are under continual penance to atone for your past faults.”

While she was speaking, she tied Mabel on the chair by means of a leather strap which passed under the seat and crossed over the girl’s lap. She tightened this strap so that the horsehair bristles drove still more deeply into the girl’s flesh.

“What’s the menu, Bridget?” the governess asked.

“Hors-d’oeuvre, ma’am, then trout, roast chicken, salad, cheese and chocolate cakes.”
Mabel, who was very fond of eating, was feeling very glad at the announcement of such delicacies and even forgot her pain a little.

“And for Mabel?”

“For Mabel, the cook has prepared what you ordered her to: a maize porridge, a little pork, mashed potatoes and some whey.”

“Perfect!” Dorothea said.

She turned towards her pupil.

“You see how I take good care of your health. I’ve decided to put you on a diet so that your bowels should keep in an excellent state. It is also normal that a girl being re-educated should not eat the same menu as her Mistress, isn’t it?”

Mabel lowered her head in shame. She did not experience any surprise now for she knew that from now on her life would be nothing but sufferings and humiliation.

But she was nevertheless surprised that they should have left her hands tied. She soon understood the reason why. Bridget, after having waited upon Miss von Berner, laid before the slave a plate brimful of maize porridge and, sitting beside her, she started forcing her to eat out of a spoon as one does to a baby. With her hands tied and being strapped to the horsehair seat, Mabel was obliged to obey. The porridge tasted awful. Bridget shoved into her mouth great big spoonfuls of it and the girl swallowed with a grimace of disgust.

“Pinch her nose, Bridget!” Dorothea ordered. “She doesn’t open her mouth wide enough. And slap her face if she doesn’t hurry more!”

The maid complied with those orders with relish. She seized rudely the delicate nose of the English girl between her fingers, obliging her to open her mouth in order to breathe. Thus Mabel swallowed willy-nilly the fulsome porridge. Three times she was slapped by Bridget for not hurrying enough.

A huge portion of puree followed the porridge. Mabel felt her stomach swell up under the corset that was squeezing her painfully. She tried to turn her head aside in spite of the slaps she was now being dealt very often on her pretty face.

“If you don’t eat all there is on your plate,” Miss von Berner said “you will be whipped till the blood runs! The meat now... But you’d better not swallow the pieces without masticating them, it wouldn’t be good for your health. Bridget, do masticate them yourself and then spit them out from your mouth into hers — that will teach her to eat better!”

Mabel’s whole body was convulsed with a shudder of distaste but Bridget was pinching her nose so strongly that she had to open her mouth to breathe and thus submit to the fulsome treatment. The maid put the pieces of meat one after the other in her own mouth, chewed them a long time, then she drew her face near Mabel’s and spat out the pieces into her mouth. At last that torture was over. The girl ended her meal with two platefuls of whey accompanied by a glass of water.

Meanwhile, Dorothea von Berner had partaken of all the succulent tidbits, washing them down with burgundy wine.

“Take the girl to her room, Bridget!” she ordered. “There, you will button up her panties, and you’ll wash her face and fix her crotch strap, then you will blow her nose as it’s running, and you’ll wash her face and fix her make up, then you’ll send her to me in the drawing-room.”

Dorothea’s orders were duly carried out. A quarter of an hour later, Mabel, made up freshly, re-buttoned up and strapped, presented herself before the implacable governess who was having coffee in the drawing-room. “Kneel down in front of me,” she ordered, “and don’t move!”

Miss Sunway obeyed. A long half hour elapsed without a word from the governess. She was sipping her coffee, smoking cigarettes and nonchalantly leafing through magazines. Mabel hardly dared to breathe. She looked up fearfully the magnificent face of Dorothea, watching her white hands with ruby-red nails turning pages, her plump, insolent rumps sprawling on the couch and her bare legs with white thighs revealing their shapes under the hitched up skirt. And she could not help admiring this splendid creature whose iron will was weighing upon her as a law. And yet, who exactly was this Dorothea? A mere governess hired by Lord Kelington — a subaltern indeed... and there she was, happy, carefree and enjoying a luxury she was not entitled to, while Mabel, a young girl of nobility and good breeding, an heir to a great fortune, was obliged to kneel like a slave before her with her hands tied up. The young English girl realized how that situation made the social classes topsy-turvy and she was appalled. But then she thought of the punishments she had received and understood that the Whip is a great Master and all-powerful magician, to be able to bring about such social upheavals.

The governess looked at her wrist-watch.

“Your time-table for the afternoon is about to begin, Mabel! You know you will have to submit to it whether you like it or not, for if you refuse, the worst punishments would await you and will quickly bring you back to the straight path. Until further notice, your schedule will be divided into three parts: from two to three, you will have a lesson, for I suppose that your education is far from perfect in spite of your seventeen years of age. From three to six you’ll do some housework as I intend to make you my chambermaid and you’ll have to get well prepared for it. Then, from six to seven, I’ll give you a rather special lesson which I’ll name: ‘a lesson of humiliation’ in order to make you obey better and to teach you to be a passive thing submitting to all my whims and be happy with your degrading situation. Now follow me to the office which I’ve transformed into a study-room!” 

She stood up and led Mabel to Lord Kelington’s office. There, to the girl’s great surprise she untied her hands and indicated a heavy armchair in front of the desk.

“You’re going to sit here,” she ordered, “and I want you to lift up your skirt before sitting down, for I want the seat always to be in direct contact with your bare flesh or your thin panties! Execution?” 

She punctuated her order with a slight stoke of the horsewhip on the pupil’s calves. So Mabel quickly hitched up her skirts up to the waist and sat down on the armchair. Then the governess took two small chains, each supplied with a padlock, and chained up the girl’s ankles to the two forelegs of the armchair.

“I keep the key to the padlocks!” she said with a mocking smile. “So, even though your hands are free, you will remain attached to your seat!”

She gave a large book to Mabel.

“Here’s your study book. I won’t make you study history or literature or such things that have no more interest for you. As I want you to become a perfect slave, only one thing must interest you from now on the story of the slaves, their ways of life and submission to their masters, as well as the punishments they are inflicted when they don’t obey. So this is a; ‘Treatise on Bondage’ which dates from the earliest periods of our times until now. Every day you will have to read ten pages and learn by heart two pages. Work, and beware if you don’t know your lesson when I come back. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Mabel sighed mournfully.

When the governess had left the room the girl started reading. The first chapter described the treatments given to the slaves of ancient Rome by the demanding patricians and their wives. It seemed to Mabel as if her own brethren were telling her their lives.

She read about ten pages and started learning the first two by heart. Luckily enough she was gifted with an excellent memory, so that when Dorothea came back, the girl told her the humiliating lesson without a single mistake.

“Not bad,” the governess said condescendingly, “I give you eight marks out of a possible ten. And you can call yourself lucky for a seven or a six are punished with a whipping with birch twigs, a five or a four deserve a horsewhipping on the breasts and an inferior gets you the dog whip on the buttocks. Remember that for the next lessons!”

She detached the poor slave and rang for the maid.

“Bridget,” she told her, “this girl will have to do three hours of housework. We shall make her sew, iron and clean the rooms. I intend to oblige her every day to stitch for me some pretty ornaments of material, but for today we shall make her do the washing only. Let’s go down to the washroom!”

With Bridget and the governess on each side of her, Miss Sunway went down to the cellar of the castle where a modern wash-room had been installed.

“Did you get down my dirty linen, Bridget?” Miss von Berner asked.

“Yes, ma’am, the one you were wearing yesterday and the one that was in your trunks. In all there are nine pairs of stockings, three slips, six handkerchiefs, two bras and five pairs of drawers. I also have the linen which Mabel was wearing about her when she arrived at the castle.”

“Perfect,” said Dorothea. “And what about you, Bridget, have you got dirty linen of your own? Mabel must wash it since she’s your personal maid.”

Bridget blushed with pleasure and pointed at a parcel in a corner.

“There, I have pajamas, two hygienic towels, stockings, a chemise and two pairs of panties. If you’ll allow me, I’ll add the one I’m wearing now and which is rather dirty.”

“But of course, do.”

Bridget lifted up her skirts, took off the blue panties which Mabel knew only too well.

She picked them up and tossed them at the girl’s face.

“Here you are, slave, and get these clean!”

“I do hope so,” Miss von Berner added, “looking at Mabel severely. I’ll give you three hours to wash all that. And I’d better warn you that I’m very particular about my own linen. If I find the least stain on it, I’ll tear the skin off your bottom with a horsewhip. Now, get to work!”

She cast her slave a despising look and went out with Bridget, taking good care of padlocking the door behind her. Mabel could come and go but she was a prisoner just the same since the only window was an air-vent and the room was lit by electricity.

The girl sighed deeply. So this is where she had sunk: down to washing the dirty linen of the governess and even that of the chambermaid!

She started working. First of all, she looked after Dorothea’s linen. It was while handling the gossamer bras and the silk or satin drawers, the slave could not help thinking of the splendid flesh and the perfect shape which these clothes had imprisoned. She felt a strange sensation thinking that what she was washing Dorothea herself had soiled with the most intimate contact of her body, that it was Dorothea whose triumphant breasts had caressed the material with their hard nipples, that it was Dorothea whoa had worn under her skirt these coquettish pink panties and had soiled them... Suddenly, without thinking, she took a pair of panties and smelled them. Its odor was heady like a voluptuous perfume. She lost her head and kissed ardently the tepid material.

Then, almost at once, she was ashamed of her gesture and resumed her working. The chambermaid, although coquettish, had but a relative degree of hygiene and her linen was frankly dirty, and its cleaning was particularly odious to the unhappy heiress.

Three long hours elapsed in frantic work. Mabel had just finished when her two mistresses came back. Dorothea ordered her slave to show her the different articles of her clothing one after the other and she examined them scrupulously, with eyebrows knitted by concentration.

“It’s all right” she said at last, “quite perfect. Bridget, have a look at yours and then send Mabel up to my room for the lesson of humiliation.”

She left the room, leaving Mabel with the chambermaid. On her knees, she had to present the linen she had washed for her.

“And what about this?” the servant exclaimed suddenly, pointing at one of her pairs of drawers “you find this clean, do you? Don’t you see that there are some stains left, you fool? Answer me!”

“I apologize to Your Ladyship,” Mabel murmured, trembling, “I thought…”

Bridget’s eyes sparkled with anger and she interrupted her with a brutal slap.
“You thought, you thought — you mustn’t think! You only have to obey! If I please to forget myself in my linen, you’re here to wash it. You’re a slave and nothing else, d’you hear?”

“Yes, Your ladyship.”

“Go ahead and do it again before me, and get it clean! And, first of all, come near me so that I punish you for your lack of care!”

With fear tugging at her heart, Mabel did as she was told. She received four powerful slaps on the face which made her reel and two strokes of the horsewhip across the breasts, which drew screams of pain out of her. Again she had a spark of anger, but she quickly suppressed any thoughts of rebellion. Bridget was a lot tougher coming from her lower station in life, and she was bigger and stronger.  She stifled thoughts she briefly had of rebellion thinking that even with her hands free, she was no match for Bridget, or her whip. Mabel understood that in any contest with either of the two woman, she would be the under dog.

So she returned to her trough and, under the despising eyes of the chambermaid, she started again washing the panties in question.

“It’s all right now,” Bridget said after a while.” Wipe your hands and follow me to your governess’s room.”

While she was walking upstairs the English girl felt a violent tug at her bowels. She could not help mentioning it to Bridget and asked her timidly to accompany her to the toilets.

“When you go to bed, not before!” was the maid’s harsh answer.

Mabel wondered with anguish how she could ever reach that moment.

Bridget, knocked at the governess’s door.

“Let Mabel in,” Dorothea said. “As for you, Bridget, you may go down and lay the table.”

We can guess with what apprehension Mabel entered her Mistress’s room. What struck her first was the strange costume Miss von Berner was wearing. The governess had given a last minute touch to her make up and she looked more ravishing than ever. She was dressed in the Spanish way an ancient shawl of great beauty was draped round her like a blouse, molding her proud bosom. As for her flowered skirt, such as the Sevillian dancers wear, it was as wide as an eighteenth-century dress and gave her a very particular exotic charm. On her ankles she wore gold bracelets, visible under the very thin silk stockings, and on her feet were small high-heeled red leather shoes.

Subjugated by such imperious beauty, Mabel knelt down and kissed respectfully the dominant woman’s feet. The latter pushed her back with a slight kick in her face and sat down in an armchair, playing with a thin horsewhip.

“Today, Mabel,” she said in a severe tone, “will, begin your first lesson of humiliation. Be attentive and obedient if your don’t want your big behind to strike acquaintance with this riding-crop!”

She paused dramatically and went on; “I have already told you what I thought of you: you’re rude, putrid with pride, modern and dissipated. In a world full of defects. It was time I arrived into your life to bring you back on the straight path. I repeat it, my intention is to make you become a submissive and pliable thing, without a shadow of personality, in a word, a complete slave. Already you must be aware of how little you are before me. Here you are, on your knees, trembling in the fear of the whip. Your flesh is no longer free since you’re strapped in a corset after my own wishes. Your body linen is quite unlike that of any girls of your age since, under my orders, you’re wearing ridiculously small panties maintained between your thighs by a leather strap and attached to the waist by forty buttons in order to imprison your behind bettor.

Your hands, now free, are mostly tied behind your back, just because I like it this way. In a word, you’re really a slave, ‘my slave’. Now, a slave’s lot is to obey. So you will learn to obey me and carry out my fanciest orders without resistance or murmur. But, first of all, I shall inspect your linen to see if you have learned to check your bodily needs. Stand up, lift up your skirt and cammy-knickers and walk up to me!

Poor Mabel was beginning to be used to such a gesture, so that it was almost mechanically that she lifted her skirts and walked up to the governess. The latter unbuckled the leather strap and inspected carefully the girl’s panties. Then, just as Bridget had done some time before, she put her hand to it and started pawing, caressing, pinching the juvenile flesh through the silk panties.

“Tell inc in a loud intelligible voice what I’m doing!” she ordered.

“You’ve got your hand between my thighs, Mistress, and you’re feeling my panties to see if they are dry.”

“And now?”

“Now you’re slipping your hand behind… You’re caressing my right, buttock slowly... now you’re caressing the left one... you’re putting your finger in the middle... you’re driving the material into it... now you’re bringing your hand back between my thighs, you’re tickling me... you’re pinching me... Mercy, Mistress, you’re hurting me!”

Dorothea went on pinching with sadistic joy and Mabel had to submit, with tears in her eyes.

“That’s enough,” the governess said at last. “Lower down your skirts, I shall now submit you to a few exercises of obedience. I shall give you rapid orders and you must obey with the rapidity. And mind the whip!”

Then, Miss von Berner started ordering her slave a whole series of movements which the unfortunate girl tried her best to carry out at once. She made her get on her knees, then flat down on her stomach, then stand up, back on her knees, stand up, down again on her stomach, and so on. As soon as Mabel was a little slow she received a stroke of the whip. This perverse game lasted a quarter of an hour. The merciless governess seemed to enjoy the game of cat and mouse. More than a hundred times Mabel had to kneel down, stand up, crawl, lie down on her stomach, kiss her Mistress’s feet. Diseve1led, bathed in sweat, she seemed exhausted when at last the Mistress put an end to these cruel exercises.

“And now,” Dorothea said, “you will learn to worship me. For you must understand that I don’t want to dominate you only by the fear of the whip — I also want you to consider me as an exceptional creature, a Goddess whose shoes you are hardly worth kissing.”

She spoke with great pride, conscious of all her powerful authority. And Mabel was looking at her with fright and awe.

“You must learn to love and to respect everything surrounding me or belonging to me; not only the different parts of my body, but also my clothes, my linen, my ornaments and everything on me. In the worship of every object, your brain will follow a morbid evolution and eventually you will end up by considering as sacred everything connected with my person. Just like a bitch who recognizes the perfumy odor of her Mistress, so you will soon know me by my perfumes, from the odor of my dresses to the most intimate ones of my body. And, to begin with, you will start by lying down on your stomach and licking slowly, humbly, abjectly, my shoes, from the tips up to the heels, without forgetting the soles!”

She punctuated her order with a lash of the whip and Mabel had to do as he was told. It was a strange spectacle indeed to see this attractive young girl whose waist was squeezed narrowly, licking the red shoes of a superb Mistress who was comfortably sitting and with a cigarette in her mouth, lashed her without pity from time to time to stimulate her.

The humiliating licking of the shoes lasted a quarter of an hour. When Mabel’s tongue had become all dry, the governess had another whim. She stood up, majestically, and forced her slave to kneel down.

“Now,” she ordered, “you will kiss the hem of my dress, very humbly. Then you will lift up my skirt and put your head underneath. Then you will understand why I’ve a wide dress on— it is to keep you a prisoner under me so that you can worship my linen like the good slave you are. First, you will kiss my legs with passion, from the ankles up to the thighs. You will deposit a long kiss on each of my garters, then you will lick my bare thighs. Then you will kiss the hem of my drawers and all its surface first in front and then behind. And above all, you must understand that it is a great honor I’m doing you in allowing you to kiss my bottom. You must be trembling with emotion, ecstasy and respect and you must understand that the whip will punish you if ever you are not passionate enough in your caresses. Now, you can begin!”

Blushing with shame, Mabel prostrated herself and began by kissing the violently perfumed Spanish skirt. With a sigh, she then slipped her herself under the woman’s dress. The material was light and did not prevent the light from traversing it. Imprisoned under Dorothea’s skirt, Mabel could see distinctly all the details — the marvelously shaped legs, in silk stockings held up the flesh-colored bare thighs and lost themselves like indiscreet snakes into the festoons of a small pair of pink silk panties tightened against the perfect rump of Dorothea. A violent perfume of luxurious linen and of womanly intimacy filled the slave’s nostrils. Already a strange heady sensation was taking hold of her. She kissed the soft legs, brushing with her face and lips the fine silk of the stockings. She did not forget to pay homage to the garters, whose steel buckles enrobed with pink satin hurt her teeth. She at last kissed and licked the suntanned skin of the heavy thighs; under her busy supple tongue this skin seemed divine to her — firm and warm, it had a slight salty taste of sweat which she did not dislike at all. The girl at last reached up to the hem of the drawers. After having kissed them, she gradually rubbed up her face against the governess’s belly. She felt the beautiful fruit of love palpitate under her avid lips—it was hot and smelling wonderfully. Strange to say, far from displeasing her, this contact was infinitely pleasant to her. She really had the impression of being admitted into Dorothea’s intimacy — it was like an honor for her. Into the soul of the young girl, masochism was taking root gradually: her submissive tongue brushed against the swelling material, under which was this secret flesh whose shape she tried unconsciously to reconstruct under the silk prison of the drawers.

Suddenly she heard above her the governess’s voice which sounded so far away.
“Adore your Mistress, Mabel! Learn to recognize all my intimate odors which your nose must never, ever forget! Kiss with respect this linen which alone is worth more than all of your tamed body girl! And now, go round behind me without interrupting your task!”

Possessed by a strange ecstasy, the girl obeyed. Her face, under the dress, came into contact with the magnificent bottom of Dorothea. Never before had Mabel contemplated from so near this large, dominating seat which she had so far admired only through the governess’s dresses. Now she had before her the two superb globes spreading out from the middle cleft into which the silk of the panties penetrated. Under Miss von Berner’s orders, Mabel had to kiss respectfully the immense buttocks one after the other and then to dip her face into their intersection. The governess took a sadistic pleasure in crushing between her tight buttocks the slave’s pretty face, half smothering her and gorging her with abjection. For a long time, she held her so, a prisoner, and the while, while the girl paid her homage, she let out a stream of humiliating words. At last satisfied, she ordered Mabel to come out of her skirts.

The unfortunate girl was red and puffing, both scarlet with shame and trembling with a strange voluptuousness.

“And now,” Dorothea said sarcastically, “to compensate a little the pleasure I’ve just given you, I shall slap you severely!”

“But, Mistress, I haven’t done anything!”

The dominating woman laughed; “I know quite well that you haven’t done anything. I’m not going to slap you as a punishment but only because I feel like it, because I enjoy it, that’s all. And I demand that, after each slap, you should thank me nicely, to prove your submission!”

Before Mabel had recovered from her surprise, the governess had sat down and drawn towards herself by her ears the young girl’s face. With great violence, she slapped her face and soon afterwards there was the mark of her fingers visible in red.

“Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Mabel murmured.

Fifteen more slaps succeeded the first one. The poor slave’s face was crimson, almost purple; her ears were tingling and her cheeks were terribly sore. Suffering and sobbing, she had nevertheless to thank fifteen times her torturer and kiss the hand that had beaten her.

“Everything! I can do everything I want with you!” Dorothea said with force. “I consider you now an abject slave whom I despise more than the ground I tread on. But your re-education is far from over: soon, Mabel, you won’t be able to live without me. You will have lost the habit of doing by yourself the most elementary gestures of everyday life and you will answer my contempt with your adoration of me!”

She stooped, hacked, and spat on the floor.

“Lick it up at once,” she ordered, “if you don’t want the whip!”

With a moan of outraged dignity, Miss Sunway prostrated herself and licked servilely the fresh saliva of her governess. The latter burst out laughing derisively.

“That’s good, you’re a good bitch! Give me your hands so I can tie them up; the lesson is over for today! And go back to your room. Bridget will wash you and make you up for dinner!” Half an hour later, the slave was bound on her horsehair seat, facing her Mistress. And while the latter was enjoying a plentiful meal, Mabel had to be content which a cold tapioca soup, boiled noodles and an apple.

After dinner, the governess decided to have a little walk in the park, for the night was superb. She was walking slowly along the paths, smoking cigarettes and dragging behind her on a leash her slave. The poor English girl was suffering, for the walk had just revived in her the physical need she had been feeling for so long and which was becoming intolerable. Finally, Mabel could not help letting go and she wetted her drawers, but she became pale with fright, thinking of the punishment that was awaiting her.

“We shall now proceed to look after your bed-time,” Dorothea declared when they bad come back to the castle. “Bridget, please come into Mabel’s room!”

The servant came at once. Soon, the three women were together in the slave’s room.

“Bridget, untie her hands!” the governess ordered. “She’s going to get undressed by herself in front of us!”

Mabel was trembling with fright. Slowly, as if regretfully, she got rid of her narrow skirt and cammy-knickers. On Dorothea’s order she approached so that they should untie her strap.

“Oh!” Miss von Berner exclaimed, “what do I see here? It seems your drawers are wet, eh?”

“I’m so sorry, Mistress, but I just couldn’t help myself!”

Mabel’s face was slapped hard twice.

“You couldn’t help yourself, you couldn’t, and my orders, then? What are you doing with my orders? So you peed in your drawers just like a four-year-old kid. You, an almost eighteen-year-old girl! Well, I ask you! What do you think of that, Bridget?”

“I think, ma’am, that it deserves a good spanking!”

“So do I, Bridget, and we shall do it right now! Go ahead, remove your panties, you dirty girl!”

Shaking with fright, Mabel got busy removing the forty buttons from the corresponding buttonholes, and, when the wet drawers fell down to her feet, the governess picked it up and vigorously rubbed Mabel’s face with it.

“Here you are, you dirty bitch, wash your face with this before being whipped!”

Aided by Bridget, she then removed Mabel’s corset. The girl, all naked, had the impression of a great: solace. It was as if her flesh, benumbed by the corset, suddenly came back to life. But she lost her sensation of well-being at the sight of Dorothea von Berner’s taking hold of a horsewhip.

“We’re not going to whip your bottom, for it hasn’t quite recovered from yesterday’s punishment,” she announced. “I shall chastise you for your uncleanliness by applying ten strokes of the horsewhip on your breasts!”

On her breasts! Mabel shuddered. She was so proud of her beautiful maidenly breasts, snow-white and round like cups, were they going to be submitted to the same treatment as her unfortunate bottom?

She had no more leisure to think it over. Already, Bridget, taking hold of her from behind, had dragged her to a chair upon which she sat her down on her lap and imprisoned her legs between hers, holding her arms to her sides. Unable to move an inch, the girl screamed with terror us the governess’s horsewhip lashed her breast cruelly. The pain was atrocious, for the end of the whip had landed on a nipple. Mabel had the impression that her breast was being torn away from her. Another stroke, aimed carefully, reached the other nipple. And the whipping continued, painful and implacable. Each breast received five lashes which marked the attractive bust with as many pink-colored weals and drew sobs of despair from Mabel.

“That will teach you to pay attention to your clothes!” Dorothea said, “and to keep in your needs the next time!”

Sobbing, the slave had to kneel down and thank her governess by kissing her feet.

“And now we’re going to prepare you for the might, for you mustn’t imagine that you will be any more free at night than during the day — I told you that at each moment of your existence your body must feel the discipline of squeezing clothes. Only that can make you obey.”

She addressed the chambermaid; “Bridget, have you prepared Mabel’s night clothes? The calico corset, the rubber panties and her night-sack?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, hand over the corset, we’re going to put it on her!”

Willy-nilly, Mabel had to let her shuddering flesh be imprisoned once again. The night corset, rather long, was fashioned out of rough calico stiffened with steel whalebones. It was tied on the side. A little less squeezed than the day one, it nevertheless seemed unbearably hard to the girl. Dorothea then ordered her to put on the rubber panties. They were small and made out of thin red rubber, clinging to the skin and tied to the stays with six buttons.

“Before putting on your night-sack, you’re going to wish us goodnight,” Miss von Berner said. “Every evening you will do this: after having knelt down like a good girl you will tell me: ‘Mistress, I thank you for this good day which you have dedicated to my education. I beg your pardon for all my faults and hope to become soon, with your help a perfect slave, obedient and submissive, just as you wish. And I wish you a good night!’ Then, you will kiss my feet and the hem of my dress, then you will say the same to Bridget, also kneeling before her.”

Then she was ordered to lie down on the bed and Dorothea produced the night-sack. It was a very long shirt of strong calico the bottom of which was sewed together like a sack. Mabel, lying on her back, had to hold up her whole body to have it slipped on her. When she put her arms into the sleeves she realized that they were sewed together at their ends. The shirt, buttoned at her neck, imprisoned the girl’s body entirely. But that still did not satisfy beautiful Dorothea. With several leather straps, the governess got to work, tying one round Mabel’s ankles over the shirt and another at knee-level. Then the slave was ordered to cross her hands on her breasts and they tied her hands with a third strap. She was trussed so securely that she could not move at all.

“Thus, I’m sure you will be a good girl during the night,” the governess said with an evil smile, “and that you won’t do any shameful things.” With calm lack of modesty, Dorothea suddenly lifted up her skirts and unbuttoned her pretty pink panties.

“I’m going to tie them up on your face,” she announced to the girl, “so that you take the habit of thinking of me even in your sleep and of living in the absolute intimacy of your Mistress!”

She wrapped carefully the slave’s face with her perfumed drawers, still warm with the contact of her body, and she fixed them with a strap knotted round Mabel’s head, at mouth level.

“She looks nice like this!” exclaimed Bridget laughing. “This is how a slave should be.”

Miss von Berner drew up the bed-sheets, covering her victim up to her chin. “Good night, Mabel!” she said in a grave tone. “And don’t forget that you are no longer Miss Mabel Sunway, the rich heiress, but only a slave submitting to my orders and tied up at my service.”

The two women left the room.

During the night, the poor girl abandoned herself to despair. She was stifling with heat and unable to move an inch. This total impotence dominated her, made her despair, and yet she decided to submit to it, for already she was getting gradually down into the slough of abjection and servitude like a man in quicksand. Crushed by her corset and her rubber panties, closely wrapped in her night-sack, this was no longer a seventeen-year-old girl lying there, but only a slave — fearful but already in love with her fearsome Mistress. She sniffed the air that passed through the silk of Dorothea’s panties, filled with the most degrading of perfumes.

And she dreamed of her governess as a fanatic dreams of his All-Mighty God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter IV

 

 

 

During a week, Miss Sunway lived the same existence, without a single detail of difference brought by Dorothea von Berner. The continual discipline and the implacable authority of the beautiful governess weighed down upon poor Mabel like the hardest of laws. Gradually, the girl felt her ultimate desires of resistance melt away and what had once been her personality was getting erased in the fog of bondage. And how could it have been otherwise? The girl could not have any initiative whatsoever — the least of her gestures was imposed upon her as an order and every single deviation to it was punished cruelly.

Then, too, Mabel’s body endured every minute the annihilating impression of its servitude. As soon as a corset was untied, another, tighter then the first, was put on in its place. She took off her panties only to do her toilet twice a day and to receive the whip, then, immediately afterwards, her bottom was imprisoned in those awfully tight drawers which were imposed upon her. Her hands, nearly always tied, were untied only in order to make her accomplish a menial task. And her knees were sore with prostrating herself in front of Miss von Berner or Bridget.

As for the punishments, they rained hard upon her. She was often whipped, spanked or slapped.

She had fully realized that she had no other course left open than to submit and that any attempt at escape was impossible. So, she got resigned to her lot with absolute passivity, but, all the while, she was in deep sorrow. In the course of eight days, she had lost the habit of speaking without being asked a question or to do any gesture without being given an order. Only one thing mattered now for her — to serve and satisfy her Mistress.

Dorothea von Berner, by means of her beauty as well as her energy, had captured entirely, the soul of her slave. She had made of her a thing without a will of her own completely malleable and as obedient as a bitch. But that did not satisfy entirely the terrible governess in spite of Mabel’s passivity, she invented every day a new torture and a new way of reminding the girl of the discipline under which she was a prisoner.
She also watched with great care her slave’s health. Thus, she had decreed that Mabel should take a purgative injection twice a week, and that was another occasion for humiliating the English girl.

Upon the governess’s order, the girl was laid down on the bed all naked on her stomach and with her feet and hands tied to the legs of the bed. Then Bridget arrived and prepared Mabel to receive her injection: she dipped her forefinger into a pot of Vaseline, went up to her victim, drew well-apart her buttocks in a brisk gesture before plunging her finger rudely into the hole. In spite of the fact that her most intimate parts were continually handled by her torturers, Mabel always felt awful when her naked buttocks were offered to the sight and sarcasm of her mistresses. Brutally, Bridget plunged her finger smeared with Vaseline down the girl’s tight orifice. She left the finger inside, moving it in and out and around and around, then plunging it in as deeply as she could, torturing the girl in this way until the governess arrived.

The governess reserved for herself the pleasure of injecting the slave with as much liquid as Mabel’s guts could hold.

Dorothea von Berner’s first use of an injection nozzle into her young victim, was one of normal size and shape. But, after introducing the original nozzle to Mabel, the Mistress began gradually using a bigger one, after each injection.

“Your behind must become more accessible,” she said laughing to the frightened slave. “I want to be able to drive into it with the greatest of ease, any object I wish.”

Now, the nozzle was the size of a candle and, driven inside for a good length, it distended painfully Mabel’s inner flesh, she penetrated her, raped her, as it were.

Naturally, the poor slave was not allowed to scream or ever to moan during the whole operation. She submitted to her torture stoically, with her lips sealed on her pain and shame.

Four pints of hot water mixed with glycerin were then introduced into the so-called patient’s body. This very hot liquid penetrated into the girl’s bowels, causing her exquisite sufferings. Then, as if reluctantly, Dorothea took out the nozzle.

“And now, the cork!” the governess ordered.

That was another refinement of cruelty. Into the intimate orifice of the heiress, Bridget drove as far as she could, a big cork, in order to prevent the girl from having any relief until the prescribed time. Over the cork, Mabel had to put on one of those pairs of hermetical rubber drawers atrociously tight and crushing her bruised buttocks.

Then she had to get up, get dressed and do her work as if nothing had happened. She felt an awful stomach-ache, but it was only two or three hours later that she was led to the toilet. In the presence of her two torturers she had to uncork herself with the greatest difficulty and to let go at last, under the laughs and jokes of the governess and chambermaid.

It can be easily appreciated that this injection was for the girl a cruel and humiliating experience.

But it was but one episode out of her existence of a re-educated heiress, since her life was but a tissue of humiliations and cruelties.

When Dorothea von Berner deemed that her slave had reached a degree of degradation and submission that was suitable, she bade the slave to appear before her presence and told her; “I hope that within yourself there is no semblance of resistance or pride left and that your re-education is beginning to have the desired benefits? Answer!”

“Oh, you’re right, Mistress,” the girl muttered. “I am completely submissive and obedient to your orders, I am your slave.”

She was on her knees and kept her downcast eyes on her Mistress’s tiny feet.

“Very well,” Dorothea went on. “It. seems to me that now you have reached a suitable degree of submissiveness and that I can modify your time-table. Oh, don’t feel glad about it! You will continue to be kept in discipline and your stays will be more and more tight, and you will keep to the same diet. But I have thought that now you can also act as my chambermaid, or rather ‘chamberslave.’ I don’t like being served by an ordinary maid. What I want is a humiliated and trembling girl whom I can order about as I please and whom I can whip when the work hasn’t been done to my satisfaction, and that, you can understand, cannot be demanded from a free woman — only from a slave. As you are a slave, you will be my maid. You will dress and undress me, you will wait upon me at table and you will follow me around always like a dog, understand?”

Brutally, she seized Mabel by the ears.

“Go ahead, yell to me that you will be happy to be my chamberslave and that it’s an honor for you! Say it!”

“Oh, yes, Mistress, I shall be very happy about it and it will be an honor for me to be your chamberslave,” Mabel repeated docilely, red with shame.

“That’s fine. Your service will begin tomorrow morning.”

Indeed, on the following day, after Bridget had supervised the slave’s washing and dressing, the chambermaid obliged Mabel to put on a pretty lace apron and, on her head, a charming maid’s cap which suited her blonde complexion to perfection.

At nine o’clock, Mabel entered her governess’s room, bearing the breakfast tray. According to the orders she had received, she knelt down in front of the bed and respectfully waited till the beautiful Dorothea awoke.

Then she had to be used a table, holding the tray at arms’ length for her Mistress to eat out of.

“Your function of chambermaid doesn’t exempt you from the inspection of your underclothes,” her Mistress said. “Stand up and show them to me!”

Mabel lifted up her skirt and silk underskirt with both hands, showing her varnished strap well adjusted between her thighs and her stomach impeccably molded in a pretty pair of pale green silk panties fixed to her stays with forty mother-of-pearl buttons.

“Have you been punished yet this morning?” asked Dorothea.

“Oh, yes, Mistress, while Her Ladyship was taking off my night-sack I made a false move and slightly tore the material of the sack. Her Ladyship then gave me ten lashes with a horsewhip on my bare bottom and I thanked her humbly.”

“She did well to punish you,” the governess said severely “and what corset did she put on you to-day? A tighter one than yesterday, I hope?”

“Yes, Mistress. A black varnished leather corset measuring thirteen inches round the waist.”

“Have you got the impression that it makes your bottom stand out?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress! When my corset is drawn tight as Mistress desires, my bottom is much bigger.”

The beautiful Dorothea listened to those confessions with a kind of sadistic joy.

“Turn around!” she ordered.

The girl obeyed and presented her enormous bottom; it pushed out and insolently offered itself to her mistress’s sight thanks to the tight corseting. With her lorgnette, (opera glasses) the governess inspected at length the girl’s ample buttocks.

“Your panties make a fold on the left buttock! Smooth it out by pulling the material tightly between your buttocks…! But, my word, you haven’t buttoned yourself very well! There is a button undone in the back. So you don’t know yet how to put on your panties as you should? You deserve to be whipped!”

Taking hold of her horsewhip she gave two violent lashes on the backs of the thighs of her slave.

“Go on now, to work! You’re going to bathe me! Carry me into the bathroom!”

Mabel tried to obey, but her Mistress was too large and much too heavy for her petite size and adolescent arms. She had to give up, to Miss von Berner’s great vexation. She then thought up the idea of putting Mabel down on all fours, and then she sat on top of her and obliged the poor slave to carry her on horseback all the way to the bathroom, stimulating her with violent strokes of her heels.

“Oh, this will work! From now on, you can carry me this way into my toilet whenever I need to use it! You make an excellent beast of burden for your Mistress!”

The governess’s bath was a delicate operation. Never before had Dorothea appeared naked before Mabel. The girl was both awed with fright and admiration in front of the powerful, magnificent body, so feminine in its plenitude, with supple limbs, large fleshy buttocks and big proud breasts. The governess was so beautiful and powerful appearing to her, that the slave’s hands trembled as she lathered, rinsed and dried her. Of course, Miss Sunway was also extremely beautiful, but she had lost in her bondage and enslavement, all her pride and any of the feeling of her own beauty and charm. Because of the Mistress’s success in a complete domination over her, she now appeared the Goddess figure Dorothea had meant to create in Mabel’s mind. A figure so powerful and so larger than life to her, that the body of her Mistress completely frightened and fascinated her.

Dorothea was well aware of the power her body exerted on Mabel.

“So, you find my body beautiful, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress.”

“I don’t want you to have any other God than my body,” the proud creature went on. “You are completely at my service and you must humiliate yourself constantly before me. Now, lie down on your back, I’m going to wipe my bare wet feet off on your face.”

The slave obeyed and Dorothea rubbed for a long time her dainty feet on Mabel’s face; the red-nailed toes curled well into Mabel’s mouth, marking them with a victorious smudging of Mabel’s lipstick across her face when they were unceremoniously removed.

Then the heiress had to do the manicure of her Mistress, paring and polishing with care the nails of her fingers and toes. Meanwhile her Mistress was indolently reclining, nonchalantly smoking cigarettes or dipping into a box of chocolates. From time to time Mabel cast a furtive glance at this wide open box which was tantalizing her.

“Oh, do you like chocolates?” Dorothea asked innocently.

“Oh, yes, Mistress!”

The woman took the box and put it insolently under Mabel’s nose, moving it back and forth, making her smell them carefully.

“Look how fine they are. From one of the best chocolate makers in Europe. What a pity these are not chocolates for a mere slave!”

She put the box down and brutally slapped Mabel’s face.

“Pay attention to your work, you little bitch, you’re hurting me!”

When the slave had finished her task, her Mistress spat out on the tiled floor of the bathroom the half-chewed chocolate that was in her mouth.

“Here,” she said, “I didn’t care for that one, so I will allow you to finish it, but pick it up without the help of your hands!”

Mabel knew quite well that if she refused to eat the half-chewed, saliva-coated sweet on the bathroom floor, she would be whipped furiously. She had to do as she had been told. Bending over, she picked up the dripping chocolate sweet between her teeth and lips like a dog, carefully lapping the spot clean of melted chocolate and spit. She did so with infinite precautions, for fear of tearing the taut material of her panties.

Then, standing behind her Mistress’s dressing-table she had to help her with her hair and make-up. Then she helped her put her clothes on, doing nearly all the work, and taking great care with the precious silk garments.

When at last Dorothea was ready, she suddenly changed her mind.

“I’d forgotten, I wanted to have a swim in the pool this morning. Take off my clothes, quick!”

Unable to refuse the order, the girl obeyed. She helped her Mistress don a ravishing and bold swimming-suit, all white and opening at the side, fixed with satin ribbons.

A quarter of an hour later, Mabel, held on a leash like a dog, was following her Mistress in the park, carrying Dorothea’s bath-wrap, parasol and bag.

In Lord Kelington’s park there was a large marble swimming-pool in the center of a lawn, but Mabel had never swum in it. Miss von Bonier had decided that this swimming-pool should be reserved for her exclusively.

The Mistress went on the diving-board and dived gracefully into the azure water. What a temptation for poor Mabel! She just loved swimming and had been quite excellent at it, and the weather was hot, yet she had to resign herself to standing motionless, corseted and wearing a maid’s apparel, while her governess was enjoying this refreshing morning swim.

When her Mistress got out of the water, she pushed away her slave who wanted to dry her in the bath-wrap.

“Not yet, I want to dry myself in the sun, but there’s no chair, that’s quite annoying, I can’t sit in the grass with my fine bathing-suit on!”

She had a sudden inspiration. She turned to Mabel and said: “Hmmm, well, we can fix that, can’t we? As you well know, a slave has many uses and can very we1l serve her Mistress as a piece of furniture. Or, like in this situation, as a deck-chair. Go on and lie down full length on your back!”

Mabel, having quickly obeyed and Dorothea first sat down heavily on the girl’s stomach, then lazily stretched herself all along Mabel’s body. Her wet body crushed that of the little slave whose clothes were rapidly soaked by the wet body of her Mistress. But the governess did not care at all about that. Voluptuously sprawled out, with her eyes closed, she lay smoking cigarettes and making herself as heavy as possible. Mabel, completely motionless was stifling under the heavy wet weight of her Mistress’s body. Dorothea’s warm round buttocks were bruising her slave’s stomach, pressing, as they were, the bones of her stays against her skin. Dorothea had even let her wet hair fall fully on Mabel’s face and her black perfumed hair was getting into Mabel’s open, panting mouth as she tried to breathe under the weight. The wet hair was blinding her, and tickling her eyes and nostrils.

For a full hour the girl was thus transformed into a human seat for her Mistress. Then, at last, Dorothea got up.

“I’ll do without you to get dressed for this time,” she said, “you’re much too wet for that. Go to Bridget now and ask her to change your dress and underclothes. Then you will wait upon me at table!”

“Yes, Mistress!”

It was all done according to Miss von Berner’s orders. Mabel, freshly clothed and made up, served her Mistress’s lunch and stood behind her chair for the whole length of the meal. Only later did she take her own lunch and then came back to serve Dorothea. The latter tied her up on a chair and gave her a few things to sew. That work lasted two, hours. Then Bridget came to untie the slave whom Dorothea wanted to see.

“I’m going for a walk in the park,” Dorothea declared, “you’re going to follow me and serve me as a seat when I decide to have a rest, and generally be at my disposal when I need you. But I see you haven’t had your hands tied yet today. I’m going to remedy it so that you remember that you aren’t a free woman.”

She took out of a cupboard a pair of silver handcuff and imprisoned the slave’s wrists in them. The click of the cold metal and its contact against her skin were new sensation for Mabel who so far had always had her hands tied by cords.

In the paths of the park the girl walked slowly behind her Mistress. The latter only turned round two or three times. The rest of the time she walked proudly and silently and Mabel instinctively followed with her eyes glued as they were supposed to be, to the swinging to and fro of her Mistress’s buttocks under the thin dress she was wearing.

Suddenly, at the corner of a little hunting box, a small mouse scurried out of a cranny and ended up at Mabel’s feet. The girl uttered a scream of fright. She had always had a fear and aversion for mice and rats.

The governess had turned round quickly and saw what had caused her pupil’s fright

“Who allowed you to scream?” she asked harshly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mistress, but I was so afraid…I…”

A slap on her cheek interrupted her.

“So, now you’re afraid of mice? Do you think you’re a ‘lady,’ someone of importance to be so delicate? You’re a common thing now. I’ll teach you not to put on airs of importance and train you not to be afraid of such harmless creatures. Follow me to the castle!”

She quickened her step and Mabel followed, anxiously wondering what was to befall her now.

In front of the facade of the castle, Miss von Berner called Bridget who appeared at once.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“My dear Bridget, just imagine; Mabel took the liberty of screaming at the sight of a harmless little mouse that had come near her legs. I’m going to punish her for her fright. There are mousetraps in the cellar, isn’t that right? And likely, they will have a few mice, alive in them maybe?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Go and take two of them and bring them here… the ones containing the largest mice, Also bring me one of Mabel’s pairs of panties, but not a tight one. Or rather, take a pair of linen drawers, the ones with a wide bottom, which I intended one day to stuff with nettles for a punishment. And also bring a few cords!”

“All right, ma’am.”

Mabel had become pale with apprehension. She was afraid to guess the horrible torture Dorothea had in store for her.

When Bridget came back with the requested objects, the governess came up to her slave and, without untying her hands, she lifted up her skirts, unbuckled her strap, unbuttoned the silk panties Mabel was wearing, and took them off entirely. The naked buttocks of the girl covered themselves instantly with goose-pimples at the contact of the air. Dorothea then put on Mabel a wide pair of linen drawers, very strong and coarse, but whose legs were supplied with tight elastic bands which were drawn tight against the girl’s thighs. Miss von Berner buttoned on the drawers but left an opening behind.

Mabel was beginning to tremble. She tried to soften up Dorothea with endearing glances but she knew it was useless.

Then the governess took Mabel to the foot of a tree the branches of which were pretty low. She made the slave lift up her manacled hands above her head and fixed them to a branch with a solid cord.

“Bridget, give me the mouse-traps!” Dorothea ordered.

Mabel’s face became convulsed.

“Mistress,” she moaned, “no, not that, please! Oh, no!”

“Silence, slave! I do what I please with you, and you have nothing to say about it!”

The sadistic young woman then drew apart the opening of the girl's panties and put the mouth of the mouse-trap against it, letting the mice drop down in the hole one after the other. The girl’s howls pleased the two women enormously. Dorothea carefully buttoned up the opening of Mabel’s panties so that no exit was left for the imprisoned mice — neither upwards, since the drawers were buttoned on to the corset, nor down, since the legs were drawn tight with elastics. Mabel so howled with fright that Dorothea had to slap her face several times to make her be silent.

“These two mice are going to stay in your panties for two hours, until dinner time,” she announced, “that will teach you to be less afraid of them from now on! Come, Bridget, we shall come back in an hour to see how Mabel is faring.”

The two women walked away. Trembling and pale with fright, the girl remained alone, tied to the tree by her uplifted manacled wrists. In the bottom of her drawers she felt an awful bustle. The mice, frightened and half stifling, were desperately seeking an exit which they never found. The clung and clawed with their small legs and now climbed along Mabel’s abdomen, now along her rounded buttocks. Then they fell back to the bottom of her panties and that was more awful still, for the girl felt them drop to her lower bottom and begin wriggling into her crotch. They squirmed well into the groove of her femininity or in the narrow valley of her anus. She whined, screamed and fidgeted frenetically as if she were having a fit of St Vita’s dance. But her movements had the opposite effect and only served to frighten and excite still more the tiny rodents. The mice, in their frantic efforts, even tried to gnaw through the coarse material of the panties but it was too strong for their efforts.

One hour later, Dorothea and Bridget came back to see their wriggling, sobbing victim and were very much amused at the sight of her movements and frightened antics. Then, weary of the dancing spectacle, they walked back to the castle.

What a terrible torture! Mabel did not manage to calm herself. For two terribly long hours, she had to endure the awful scratchings and frantic movements of the imprisoned creatures. Her nerves were beginning to be at the end of their resistance. She was pale and shaken with sobs and shudders. Then the bell announcing that dinner was ready chimed and Bridget came to release Mabel. She took off her panties, killed the mice which wanted to escape, then took her to the governess. The latter, comfortably sitting in the drawing room, was sipping a glass of port wine. Mabel went down abjectly onto her knees.

“Well, Mabel,” Dorothea said, mockingly, “you will no longer be afraid of mice now, will you?”

“O-oh, n-no, Mistress, I p-promise you.”

“Apologize for having been afraid and thank me for this good and clever teaching punishment.”

“I humbly beg your pardon, Mistress, and I thank you for teaching me and punishing me!”

“That’s good! Kiss my feet and go to your room with Bridget to change your panties!”

Submissive and still trembling, the girl followed the chambermaid.

After dinner, which she served to her Mistress, Mabel was again taken to the sitting-room.

“Mabel,” Dorothea told her, “I won’t need your services until eleven tonight. Until that time you will be Bridget’s slave and domestic servant, for you mustn’t ever forget that you also belong to her. So you shall go to her and put yourself at her complete disposal like a nice girl. And you must obey her and satisfy her if you don’t want your big buttocks punished, understand me?”

“Yes, Mistress!”

“Good. Now, go!”

Mabel, with her face blushed with shame went to the servant’s quarters. It was a real torture to her to put herself at the service of that course, domestic woman whom she thoroughly hated.

Bridget had just finished her work and was preparing to go to bed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked the slave in a hard voice.

Mabel knelt down at her feet.

“Mistress has ordered me to put myself at the complete disposal of Her Ladyship and be Her domestic slave and servant until eleven tonight.”

The vulgar face of the maid lit up in a wicked smile.

“Ah, that’s fine, it’s good that you should learn to serve me too! And beware of the whip if you aren’t a perfect slave! Follow me to my room!”

“Yes, Your Ladyship!”

She went up the stairs, followed by Mabel, trembling. She had in her hand a leather horsewhip which she violently moved through the air with ominous whistling sounds.
Never before had the girl been in Bridget’s room. Situated on the last floor, it was comfortable, but furnished with very bad taste. There was a smell of cheap perfume in the air.

Some bold, crude drawing were pinned to the walls and there were also a few autographed photos of men, probably former lovers.

“On your knees!” Bridget ordered in a dry tone. “A slave must be on her knees in the room of her Mistress.”

She was sitting on her bed and looking despisingly down at Mabel.

“The roles have really changed, haven’t they?” she laughed, “You, who thought you were so superior to me when you arrived. You who thought you would be ordering me about and treating me as your chambermaid. You’re more than just my chambermaid now though, aren’t you,  you’re my slave, a slave whom I order about with whiplashes, and I can ask you to do anything! Anything I fancy.”

She thought for a few moments what she was going to order her slave to do.

Take off your dress and underskirt!” she ordered. “I want you to be in stays and panties to serve me, so that I can whip you better.”

Mabel complied. Half undressed she offered her Mistress a strange hourglass silhouette, with her tiny waist tightened to the utmost in the varnished leather corset, her naked breasts jutting out, as well as her wide buttocks upon which the silk of her panties was drawn exceedingly taut without a single fold.

“And now,” the chambermaid went on, “you’re going to lake off my shoes with your teeth!

Prostrated in front of the demanding maid, Miss Sunway reluctantly took between her teeth the high heels of Bridget’s booties and tugged at them in turn until they were both off, then — also with her mouth she shod her with slippers,

“Stand up!” Bridget then ordered, “and follow me into the toilet!”

In the small toilet, she told her slave to remove her panties. Then, holding them, Mabel had to kneel in front of the door, waiting for her Mistress to call her.

“Come in!” she heard Bridget say at last. “You’re going to attend to my intimate toilet. You may have the honor of cleaning my ass for me!”

That news was almost too much for the unfortunate heiress. She had a movement of disgust, quickly curbed by a few lashes with the horsewhip. With tears in her eyes she had to attend to the repulsive task of wiping her Mistress’s rear, emptying the contents of the toilet, and then cleaning it, the seat and the bowl rim with her tongue, all the while, there rang in her ears the vulgar sarcasm and laughter of her torturer.

Back in Bridget’s room, Mabel, on her knees, took off Bridget’s clothes for her. The naked body of the young woman was a bit heavy, but not without a certain attraction. The hapless slave contemplated this powerful body with a profound respect earned from the many painful lessons exacted out on her. The awe she felt now in this girl’s presence was mixed with a profound fear. She felt sad and downcast, impotent and weak before her now, absolutely under the thumb of this insolent and violent girl, who enjoyed punishing her victim at any chance she got.

“I’m going to comb my hair and remove my make-up for the night,” Bridget announced, “but I prefer sitting on you than on a chair. Stand on all fours in front of the mirror and beware you don’t make a move!”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

Having obeyed, Mabel felt the servant sit heavily on top of her, crushing her back with her heavy-fleshed buttocks. For a long half hour she had to be a human seat and every time she became weak, a hard slap from Bridget, on her face or rear made her take up her position quickly and firmly again.

“It seems to me, you still haven’t been educated well enough yet,” Bridget said, standing up at last, “I think deep down, you still consider yourself above me, I intend to erase those thoughts completely from your mind before too much longer by shaming and punishing you until I’ve broken you completely. You will  be punished every time I think you are acting anything less than my abject slave, so I won’t go to bed without gratifying your rump with a few lashes! Take off your panties!”

“Mercy, Your Ladyship! Please don’t beat me again! I haven’t done anything wrong, I’m submissive, I’m completely obedient. Please, don’t beat me, please!”

“Silence, slave, and obey me!”

Mabel had to do as she was told. Lying down full length on the carpet, she offered her bare buttocks to the chambermaid’s horsewhip. With a sadistic pleasure, Bridget whipped her cruelly. Ten strokes made the already tenderized buttocks of the girl begin to bleed in places.

Satisfied, Bridget at last went to bed, dressed in a black silk pajama. Kneeling by the bed, Mabel then had to fan her Mistress, licking and kissing her feet. She had to light her cigarettes and then hold in front of her a book Bridget was reading. She turned the pages carefully for her when Bridget signaled by pulling her hair. When she heard eleven o’clock chime she felt an immense relief, she took her leave from the cruel chambermaid, kissing her feet, before she went back to Miss von Berner to take further orders.

Serving the governess was much more pleasant for her, because the strange feelings she now had for Dorothea were not at all those inspired by the maid. She feared Bridget greatly for her cruelty and she trembled abjectly before her, but, together with her humiliation she felt a kind of rage and impotent revolt boiling inside her at the idea of being the slave of a worthless serving girl and vulgar domestic. On the contrary, Dorothea inspired profound respect in her, and she would not dream of discussing her orders now. Subjugated, fascinated by the authoritative governess, she had now reached the stage where she was almost happy to serve her and obey her. She felt for her a strange, almost boundless admiration, she found her completely beautiful and fearsome and adored her like a Goddess, judging that to serve her was a privilege and honor. Though it was naturally humiliating to do so.

In the voluptuous atmosphere of the large, sweet-smelling room, Mabel busied herself around her Mistress. She undressed her, helped her with her night toilet and accepted without hardly flinching the many slaps which her Mistress gave her at the least excuse.

As she went to drape the beautiful naked body of her Mistress with a thin night-dress, Dorothea stopped her with a gesture.

“No,” she said, “I want to go to bed all naked— and I want you to be naked too! Get undressed!”

She lay down on the bed while Mabel, with feverish hands, got rid of all her cumbersome clothes. The governess watched her with an odd expression, akin to lasciviousness. A short while later, the nubile body of the young slave was all bare. Delightfully plump and pink, this young body was like a spot of light in the dusk of the room. Mabel’s curvy shapes were really attractive. Wearing a cruelly tight corset had given her an un-naturally thin waist which made her breasts stand out, as well as her plump buttocks, made even bigger still by the swelling brought about by constant whippings — they were like two ripe fruits streaked with raised red welts.

“Come here, Mabel,” Dorothea ordered, “on your knees, and lick my feet!”

Trembling, and beginning to feel a strange kind of ecstasy, the girl knelt down. Her lips drew near the dainty feet of her Mistress with devotion.

“I’m going to teach you,” Dorothea went on, “to lick your Mistress’s feet the way it should be done. Put out your tongue as far as you can, and then start by licking my toes, then in between them, so that your tongue caresses be at the same time a thorough cleaning. Suck on each toe as lovingly as possible. Finally, you’ll take as much of my foot as you can into your mouth and cover it with saliva… slave slobber—and I expect you to be able to take in more and more of it over time. Then, you will continue to lick it until I tell you to stop. Now start!”

A prey to an odd sensation, Mabel started. At length and respectfully, she licked the woman’s feminine feet, tangy with the day’s sweat and perspiration. Humiliatingly, Mabel now found them to be strangely tangy-sweet-flavored. Soon, she became as if drunk with them. Dorothea let her lick, and, from time to time, she lashed her with the horsewhip a little to activate or slow the rhythm of her submissive caresses. Mabel, gasping, was all in a sweat. This servile, licking seemed to her a great honor and a feast. For a long hour and a half, she satisfied thus her governess’s lust.

“Enough!” Dorothea said at last. “Now, climb onto the bed, lie down on your stomach between my legs and kiss softly in between my thighs.”

Without fully understanding all that the order contained in perversion, the naïve, virgin slave obeyed. Squeezed in between Dorothea’s beautiful fleshy thighs, she put her head into the soft heat, kissing and licking the velvety inner thighs until Dorothea directed her face into the warm hollow of her femininity. The soft, curly black down penetrated her mouth and nose and tickled her deliciously. She could feel, under the thick, perfumed hair, the warm moist fruit of love which palpitated like a small precious animal.

“Go on,” the governess said in a voice dry with passion, “do your best, to caress me as I wish... That’s good, use your tongue and lips, yes, continue like this... Drive your, tongue further in now! Draw your tongue more, slave! Lap! Now flick it! Drive it inside as far as you can! Now, pull it back and do it again… in, out, in, out... that’s good, but wriggle it more… continue! Suck out all the juices, lick and suck at the same time. Don’t miss a single spot!”

Mabel was getting frantic. Under the orders, accompanied each time with whiplashes and cruel tugs on her hair, she did as best she could. A delicious acrid feminine odor and taste penetrated her intimately, filling her mouth and nose with the bubbly syrup. Under her agile tongue she discovered new mysteries; she had the impression of discovering a strange new world.

Dorothea breathed loudly and squeezed more and more on the slave’s head between her robust-fleshed thighs. Suddenly she grasped with both hands the head that was caressing her and rubbed it forcefully against her sex-flesh with a kind of fury. Mabel, crushed, gave herself passionately to this new game, struggling to breath in the thickly-moist environment. She had stopped for the time to think that she was a mere slave and that her Mistress was simply using her as she would a mere towel or like a pleasure beast. She did not think of anything, so excited was she at what was happening. Dorothea’s sex-flesh was to her like a divine essence and her lips trembled with ecstasy at its contact. A virgin, and completely ignorant of perverse pleasures, she brought to this act all the zeal she had in her, not even feeling the cruel whiplashes which Dorothea gave her on her back and rear with more and more violence.

Finally Dorothea’s beautiful body arched itself and her throat gave out a very soft hoarse moan. At the same time, Mabel’s face was inundated with a thick, musky dew that went mostly into her mouth, and her head was terribly crushed between her Mistress’s thighs; nailed to the sweating, gasping belly, blinded, almost drowned, face and hair covered in Dorothea’s sweat and juices, the slave felt herself die with joy.

Only a long time later did Miss von Berner release her prey from the confines of her heavy thighs. And now, her eyes had regained their hard and bright expression.

“On your knees at the foot of my bed!” she ordered.

Briskly recalled to her true position, Mabel quickly obeyed. The governess looked at her with a mocking contempt.

“Do you like my body?” she asked smirkingly.

“Oh, yes, Mistress, I adore it!” Mabel sighed, in ecstasy.

“Put out your tongue!”

Between her fingers, Dorothea cruelly pinched Mabel’s pink tongue, holding it prisoner.

“You see,’’ she went on, “this tongue is just a slave’s tongue, it is completely at the service and pleasure of my body, and any time I feel like it, I shall have you drive this tongue into me for my pleasure!”

And she concluded; “As for you, I want, you to be always ready to kiss and lick with complete joy and respect, any part of my body, even the most intimate of areas. Otherwise, I shall oblige you to do so anyway with means of the whip. Understood, slave?”

“Y-yes, Mistress!”

“From now on,” the implacable Dorothea went on, “You will no longer just call me ‘Mistress,’ but, ‘Divine Mistress.’ That is logical, since I am now your God as well as your Master. Now, go and fetch the panties I wore earlier today and use them to wipe me up!”

With trembling hands, Mabel wiped up the dripping wet sex of her Mistress with the pink silk knickers. Then Dorothea used them to wrap around Mabel’s head, seeing to it that the most soiled parts of the material should be in direct contact with the slave’s mouth, bunching the crotch and wet spots into her mouth as a gag.

Then she made her lie down, all naked, on the bed-side rug and tied up her feet and hands. Completely immobilized and blinded, the slave heard her Mistress go back to bed, and then her voice from above her, saying; “I hope you’re very happy, slave, to have had the honor to kiss all the secret places of my body?”

“Oh, yes, Divine Mistress,” Mabel said indistinctly through the soiled panties in her mouth.

“And I hope you will thank me for it tomorrow by obeying me still better than usual and submitting totally to me?”

“Yes, Divine Mistress, I swear I will.”

“That’s good. You may sleep now! And don’t let me hear another sound out of you, or else tomorrow night, I’ll let you sleep in my toilet.”

“Yes, Divine Mistress.”

At last satisfied, the beautiful Dorothea lay down comfortably among her plush silk pillows and soft comforters and went to sleep at once.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter V

 

 

A few days later an unusual event took place— a visit at Kelington castle, that of Eva Crimpton, a friend of Miss von Berner’s who came to settle down in Scotland for an indefinite period.

Eva Crimpton was a strange woman. Aged about forty-five, she must have been very beautiful once, but she had let herself grow rather too fat. All sorts of stories were whispered about her, and all were true. She had been at one time a singer in a ‘cafe-concert;’ richly kept by several men, she was known by her hardness of heart and a strange sadism — she loved to see others suffer.

After having reduced to misery a few lovers and getting rich herself, she had amassed a considerable fortune and had founded near London, a girl’s boarding-school which did not admit just any girl, but only orphans or girls of whom their parents wanted to get rid of. Once in this boarding-school, the poor girls never came out of it again, for, as one can easily imagine, they were submitted to the most rigid discipline and became slaves in the hands of the plump manageress.

When the pupils came of age and had forever lost all semblance of a personality, their destinies changed. Miss Crimpton kept a few as domestic slaves, and the others were sold off at very high prices to young aristocratic women who were as sadistic as Eva and who kept these girls captive for life in the country and used them to their own cruel ends.

Eva’s school will be the subject of our next book.

Dorothea von Berner had at one time been a teacher in that strange school. It was Eva Crimpton who first initiated her to the perverse domination of girls and it was there that Dorothea had learned to become a fearsome governess.

She was in very good terms with Eva Crimpton and that is why the latter wanting a holiday, had come to settle down in the castle, with Lord Kelington’s assent. She had arrived with numerous pieces of luggage and she drove herself in a luxurious car.

Mabel Sunway, completely absorbed in her demanding domestic work, had not even seen her arrive. It was only when Eva was installed and settled that Miss von Berner called Mabel to the drawing-room.

Mabel felt surprise awl shame to see her Mistress talking amicably with an unknown woman. She stared with terror at this majestic and heavy-set person sitting on the sofa. Miss Crimpton, very elegant and dressed in black silk, was wearing numerous jewels. Her face was heavily made up and still had remnants of a great beauty. Her eyes were of a wonderful light grey color, her nose small, her mouth sensual and with a lot of lipstick on; her auburn hair was admirably coiffured; and the skin of her neck and arms seemed that of a young girl, so white, milky and soft it looked.

“Come near us, Mabel,” Dorothea said in a dry tone, “and salute Madam! Go on your knees and kiss her feet! Go on, be quick!”

Frightened, the girl obeyed like an automaton. She stepped up to the fat woman who was looking at her with complete contempt through a lorgnette, (opera glasses). She knelt down and kissed Eva’s varnished shoes.

“This,” the governess said, “is the girl I talked to you about. Needles to say, as good a slave as she is, she will do anything you may want her to do and she will obey you with complete and utter submission.”

With the tip of her shoe, Miss Crimpton obliged Mabel to lift up her head.

“Very pretty, indeed, a charming slave, I congratulate you, Dorothea!” Eva said. “What’s your name, little one? Answer me, looking me in the eyes! You mustn’t call me madam but; ‘Your honor.’ And don’t let me have to repeat it to you, either. When a slave wearies me I give her quite a whipping. Understood?”

“Y-yes, Your Honor.”

“Would you like me to untie her,” Dorothea proposed, “so that she gets undressed and you can see her body in the nude?”

“I shall undress her myself,” Eva answered, “it is preferable that a slave should always keep her hands tied when she is on duty. First, I’ll have a look at her breasts.”

So saying, Miss Crimpton crudely thrust her hands into Mabel’s blouse and took out in one gesture her two naked breasts which she started immediately to caress.

“Pretty breasts, indeed!” she exclaimed. “I hope her bottom is worthy of the front.”

Mabel, with tears in her eyes, submitted to the odious touch. Then, Eva lifted up the slave’s dress which she tucked up into the corset to keep it in an upward position. Her grey eyes sparkled with pleasure.

“Congratulations, darling Dorothea, this is a fine piece of a girl! And she’s impeccably strapped and her panties are nice and tight just like those worn by the girls in my school. Not a single wrinkle on the buttocks and well strapped between the legs, perfect!”

Eva undid the strap anal started to paw insolently the slave’s femininity through the silk material.

“I hope she’s depilated…? Yes, I can see she is.

She made the girl turn round and slipped one of her fingers into her anus, through the material.

“Let’s see her naked, now!”

Dorothea rushed forward, eager to help.

“I won’t let you unbutton all that by yourself. Let me help you!”

The two women undid, one after the other, the forty buttons which tied Mabel’s panties to the stays. The girl felt herself near to tears. She was in the possession, as it were, of this stranger, and she was giving her the most secret parts of herself and she could not do anything to prevent it.

The drawers, freed from the waist, were pulled low and finally fell to the feet of the slave.

“Lie down on your stomach on my lap!” Miss Crimpton ordered.

Mabel, dominating her rage, if not her humiliation took up the position of a baby being spanked. She could smell Eva’s violent perfume and feel the soft warmth of her fat thighs. Then, the most humiliating examination began. Miss Crimpton, bending down over her victim, inspected all the details of the young rump with her lorgnette. She caressed softly the buttocks, asking Dorothea whether it was the whip or the riding crop which had caused all these weals and welts. Then she drew the plump globes apart and, first with her eyes, then with her fingers, she explored the gap in between.

“The bottom,” she said, “is for me the touchstone of feminine education. It is by whippings that a girl is educated and made a slave of. Take for instance a proud aristocratic girl like this one once was… which is the best way to humiliate her? Surely, that of baring often her young buttocks, proving to her that, that part of her anatomy is no longer her own but that of her Mistress. Whippings, injections, tight panties, the birch — all that must be given almost without stop to a slave. A girl being re-educated, whether she is sitting or standing, or lying down, must have continuously the feeling of her own behind — she must feel it being either whipped, or penetrated, or simply crushed by the material of her panties. I hope, my dear Dorothea, that the bottom of your slave hasn’t gotten even a single minute of respite?”

“I’m doing my best,” the governess said smiling. Eva Crimpton was pinching Mabel’s buttocks.

“This behind is big, but not enough for a slave. You should make her ride a bicycle. Is there one here?”

“Yes, we have one in the hangar,” Dorothea said.

“Good. I’ve brought for Mabel a bicycle saddle which I’ve also made for my pupils and which is conceived specially to fortify the muscles of the behind. Shall I show it to you?”

“Yes, do, by all means. We have a full hour before lunch-time and we could use it to give Mabel her first ride. How must she dress for that?”

“Don’t let her put her panties back on,” Miss Crimpton said, “but she better keep on her stays. Remove her skirt, underskirt, blouse, strap, stocking and shoes and let her wear a simple, but very short skirt stopping at the mid thighs and tied to the corset, and put her bare feet into sandals.”

“All right, Bridget will dress her up accordingly and she’ll take her to the park when she’s ready.”

The slave was authorized to leave Eva’s lap and was handed over to the chambermaid. A few moments later, dressed as Eva had indicated, she was again in the presence of her mistresses near the hangar.

At once, she shuddered at the sight of the bicycle upon which the special saddle had been mounted. This odd instrument was not actually a saddle but only a polished wooden ball, as big as an egg, at the end of a metal rod.

“Mabel,” the governess asked, “I hope you can ride a bicycle?”

“Yes, I can, Divine Mistress.”

“Then ride it!” Miss Crimpton ordered.

Bridget was holding the bicycle. Mabel went astraddle it, put her feet on the pedals, but she did not dare sit on the wooden ball for fear of hurting herself. Dorothea slapped her face.

“What are you waiting for to sit down?”

Trembling with fear, the girl tried to obey. Eva had taken position behind her; she drew the girl’s buttocks apart brutally and forced her to sit down briskly. Mabel screamed with pain: the wooden ball, penetrating between her buttocks, was driving inside her anus more and more deeply. The slave was impaled on the saddle. It was a particularly painful position, for the buttocks were not resting on anything and the whole weight of her body rested on the secret orifice of the girl.

“But she’s going to try to lift herself up by getting a leverage on the pedals,” remarked Dorothea.

“I’ve thought about that,” replied Miss Crimpton. “So we shall tie her up on the bike by fixing one end of this chain to her corset and the other end to the back mud-guard of the bicycle. Then we shall tie her hands on to the handlebar and her heels to the pedals!”

While Bridget was still holding the bicycle up, the two mistresses fixed the chain to Mabel’s corset and tied up her hands; then they bent down to tie her feet to the pedals. In that movement, their dresses were lifted a little and their under-clothes visible. Mabel noticed how huge Eva’s bottom was, squeezed in a luxurious pink silk pair of panties.

At last everything was ready. Dorothea and her friend went into Eva’s car, ready to follow Mabel during her ride. They had taken with them a long whip with a leather lash like those used in circuses when showing horses.

“And mind you stay always near the car,” Miss Crimpton recommended, “if you don’t want to be whipped to death after your ride!”

“Y-yes D-Divine Mistress!”

Then Bridget let go of the bicycle and Mabel started pedaling. From the car, the two torturers watched her with sadistic joy. From time to time, Dorothea lashed the bare legs of the slave.

“Faster!” She cried, “keep your head held up and your back erect! Obey, Mabel, or else beware!”

The poor girl was suffering horribly. For more than half an hour she was forced to pedal without stop through the walks of the park. She was sweating profusely and her corset was crushing her most painfully, obliging her to stand erect. But, above all, it was her behind that was hurting her. It felt all bloody. When, now and then, her skirts flew up with the wind, Dorothea took advantage of it by lashing the soft bared buttocks with her long whip.

At last the Mistresses called a halt.

“But I can’t alight,” Mabel moaned, “I’m tied up!”

“Well what about it, stupid, there’s some moss at the edge of the path; just you let yourself fall down on it!”

Her nerves taut with fear, the girl obeyed. She fell heavily to the ground, still tied to her bicycle and bruising her right thigh and arm in the process.

They left her thus for long minutes without bothering about her. The two friends, in the car, were chattering amiably. At last, Dorothea got up and walked up to her victim, Taking a handkerchief out of her purse she wiped up the sweating, tear-stained cheeks of the slave and made her blow her nose, which was running profusely. Then she ordered her to ride once again. She lifted up the girl and the bike and placed her in the right direction on the path.

For another half hour, Mabel had to pedal without a minute’s rest, lashed by her Mistress’s whip, and with their cruel laughter ringing at her ears.

When she arrived back at the castle, poor Mabel was half fainting with fatigue. She let herself fall at the end on the gravel path with her bicycle. The two women went in without bothering about her and it was only half an hour later that Bridget went to deliver Mabel from her uncomfortable position.

The slave was so tired and trembling that, exceptionally, she was exempted from waiting at table on her Mistresses. She was made to lie down on a bed and she slept until two o’clock, and, during her sleep, she sighed now and then, and sobbed and shuddered nervously.

After a hasty meal, Mabel was dressed up again and her hair arranged, then Bridget strapped her up tightly. Then, freshly made up, she was led to her Mistresses who were having coffee in the drawing-room.

Fat Eva Crimpton contemplated her with a cruel smile.

“Come here, my girl!” she called. “Come and kneel down before me!”

Mabel having obeyed, she took her by the ears, forcing her to lift up her head.

“Well,” she asked, “do you feel more disciplined now after your ride? Is your behind still hurting you after that good ride on the bicycle?”

“Oh, yes, Your Honor,” Mabel whispered, with despair in her eyes.

“So much the better. We shall make you ride it every day.”

She addressed Dorothea

“Really darling, your slave is most charming, and I really feel like using her a little. Would you lend her to me for tonight?”

“But of course, Eva. Mabel will be led to your room at the time you please and will be at your complete disposal for as long as you like, won’t you, slave?”

“Y-yes, Divine Mistress.”

“Put out your tongue!” Miss Crimpton ordered with a lecherous smile.

Mabel’s velvety pink tongue shot out from her painted lips. Eva pinched it cruelly between her fingernails, pulled it out to the maximum, and caressed it voluptuously with her fingers.

“This tongue looks like it’s the right size for what I want it to do,” she told Dorothea with a knowing wink.

The beautiful governess burst out laughing. “Yes, indeed,” she said, amused. “So you still have your special tastes, have you?”

“It’ll certainly do,” the fat woman replied with a tranquil lack of modesty, “I don’t feel any pleasure on the front side, and, in my school, I’ve admirably taught one of my special pupils to caress me exactly according to my wishes. I have even lengthened and narrowed her tongue with special apparatuses. I always had that girl beside me wherever I went and she was quite ready, at the lash of a whip, to creep underneath my skirts. And, at night, to have her better at my disposal, I used to make her sleep inside a huge night-stand near my bed.”

Dorothea von Berner laughed.

“Oh, Eva, you’ll never change!”

“But,” Miss Crimpton went on, “I’m beginning to be tired of her and I think I’m going to give her to one of my girl-friends, and, as for me, I shall teach a brand-new girl to be of service to my behind.”

During the whole time she had been speaking, she had not let go of Mabel’s tongue, which she pawed nervously. And the girl wondered with anguish what was the meaning of that strange talk.

“Get up now!” Miss Crimpton ordered at last, “and remain there motionless, with your heels together and your head erect, until I need you again.”

The English girl having obeyed, the fat Mistress examined her with attention.

“Higher, your head, higher!” she said dryly. “A slave must be arched completely and her eyes must look up at the ceiling, just like a well-groomed valet. Dorothea, my darling, you should let her wear a discipline bit to teach her to lift up her head better.”

“I know, Eva, but I haven’t got one here.”

“But I’ve got some! Since you told me that you had a girl-slave here. I brought with me a few instruments of discipline in my suitcases. Mabel…!” 

“Your Honor?”

“Go to my room. There, you’ll find on a table, a steel and leather instrument, similar to a horse-bit. Bring it to me!”

“But my hands are tied, Your Honor!”

“Well, take it in your teeth, stupid. Go on and don’t discuss it with me!”

Two minutes later, the slave came back with the instrument. It was the exact copy of a horse-bit, on a reduced scale made out of fine steel and with red varnished leather reins.

“On your knees before me, and open up your mouth wide!” Miss Crimpton ordered.

Mabel, trembling, did as she was told. The fat Mistress then put the bit into her mouth, the metal part holding her tongue down, which was rather painful. The instrument was tied under the chin and the reins gathered behind the head. Eva pulled briskly on the reins, making the slave’s head take up an upward position to the maximum of its
possibility. She moaned as her mouth was bruised terribly by this horrible instrument. Without batting an eyelid, Eva fixed the end of the reins to a ring of the corset in the back.

“There she is, bridled like a young mare!” she said laughing. “That will teach her to stand a little more erectly!”

“That’s perfect,” exclaimed Dorothea von Berner. “And how long will she have to wear this instrument of discipline?”

“I advise you, darling, to put her to the bit every time she has a special work to do. In my school, my pupils wear it at least four hours a day.”

Mabel’s beautiful eyes were filled with tears. How painful and humiliating this horse-bit was to her! It made her stand erect, without being able to move her head at all, with her eyes heavenwards and her mouth bruised by the cruel instrument.

In that uncomfortable position she had to accompany her mistresses in their walk a few minutes later. They had untied her hands so that she could carry the ladies’ bags, parasols and coats. She walked three paces behind them, half paralyzed with pain and humiliation.

When they were back in the castle Mabel was locked in Miss Crimpton’s room, with the order to unpack all her suitcases and to put away in the cupboards all the belongings of the fat lady. They had removed the bit at last, but with the promise that it would be applied again the next day.

She had hardly finished her work when Eva Crimpton came into the room. With her lorgnette carried defiantly in front of her critical eye, she checked all the cupboards, and, under the pretence that a pile of linen was not quite shipshape, she condemned Mabel to be whipped at once.

With her panties removed, the poor girl had to go on all fours in the middle of the room and offer her behind to Miss Crimpton’s horsewhip. She received a dozen lashes which made her scream with pain. Eva struck still more powerfully than Dorothea von Berner. Mabel’s poor buttocks covered themselves with bleeding cuts and the horsewhip burst the blisters caused by previous whippings. Then, on her knees, the slave had to thank her torturer and humbly lick her feet. She was extremely humiliated to be treated in this way by that fat woman who, the very morning of that same day, was still unknown to her. She understood now that this Miss Crimpton would be a particularly implacable and experienced Mistress.

The remainder of the day was spent without any other incident. Mabel, dressed as a serving maid, served dinner to her two mistresses, then waited upon Bridget, and only after that was she allowed to eat herself. Then she was summoned to the drawing-room to receive further orders.

“You still want the slave for tonight, Eva?” Dorothea van Berner asked her friend.

The fat woman smiled with an expression of greedy lust which did not escape Mabel.

“And how, darling. I’m looking forward very much to be caressed as I like by this little beast of pleasure. But I would like her to be locked in my room from now on, for two hours so that she should prepare herself in prayers for me to obey me and serve me as I wish.”

“Should she be naked?” Bridget asked.

“No, on the contrary, I would like her dressed, very dressed — in an evening gown, for instance, just as she was when she was still a free and proud girl going to balls. Put her into a long evening gown and, under it, corset her very tightly, to the maximum. As for her underclothes, let her wear the same as worn usually by little whores, such as, for instance, panties in black laced satin — that would be fine. Ah, I nearly forgot — before letting her put on her panties, slip a glycerin suppository well up into her anus und stop it up well with a cork. Then you will tie her up at the foot of my bed and gag her with my dirty linen, a chemise or rather, my knickers which von will find in the cupboard.”

On hearing so many perverse refinements, Bridget’s face had lit up with a wide smile, while Mabel’s had become crimson with shame and fright.

The slave took leave of her Mistresses and was taken away by the maid. A half hour later, Miss Crimpton’s orders had been carried out to the letter. Mabel, atrociously corseted in leather stays, was dressed in an adorable evening-gown in black and pink silk, the very dress which she had once worn at fashionable balls in Paris.

For Mabel, it seemed a lifetime ago.

As for her underclothes, she wore only a narrow pair of panties in black silk and lace, very perverse and sexy, which she was wearing for the first time.

The girl’s secret orifice was corked up well with care and already she was beginning to feel the effects of the suppository which Bridget had introduced with sadistic joy. Mabel understood that cruel Eva would probably force her to keep it in all night without taking off the cork, in order to cause her the maximum of discomfort and shame.

The poor slave was on her knees, with her hands tied behind her back by a string connected to her dress. The lower part of her face was gagged with the mauve panties worn for the last three days by the fat Mistress.

For two hours she had to stay there, meditating on her cruel fate. Then she heard noises of steps and laughter coming from the passage. The room was suddenly inundated with light and Miss Crimpton appeared. She went to her dressing-table without condescending even to glance at the tied up slave. For a long while she paced across the room, putting away her things, as if Mabel did not even exist. Finally she took hold of a strong leather horsewhip and went up to the girl. She made her stand up with a kick and showed her the bed with an imperative finger.

“Lie down here and don’t move!” she ordered.

Mabel, with her hands still tied up, obeyed. She lay down on the blankets and followed all her Mistress’s moves with fearful eyes.

A few minutes later, Eva came and sat on the bed near the slave. She surveyed her for a long time, without a word, and with contempt in her grey eyes. Then, slowly, began to paw her. First, her hands touched her breasts, caressing them through the material of the dress and now and then pinching the nipples violently. Then she caressed Mabel’s belly, thighs and suddenly slipped her hand underneath her skirt. Mabel shuddered as she felt the fat hand go to and fro on the bare flesh of her inner thighs and under the material of the panties, on her imprisoned femininity. Then the hand slipped towards her buttocks, penetrated between them and checked whether the cork was well in position.

This perverse game lasted for about half an hour. Miss Crimpton pawed, pinched and caressed, without omitting a single inch of Mabel’s flesh and, all the while, she looked hypnotically into her slave’s eyes.

Mabel was becoming frantic with rage, despair and shame. Gagged and tied up she just had to submit to the pawing, and tears welled up in her pretty eyes.

Then the woman removed the knickers that were gagging Mabel and started caressing the girl’s face just as she had caressed the other parts of her body. She even obliged her to open her mouth and dipped into it two of her fingers on which she was wearing rings, and explored every nook and cranny of Mabel’s mouth, under her tongue, along her teeth and her palate. Mabel had to take a hold on herself not to bite those insolent fingers.

At last Eva stood up and began undressing under the eyes of her slave. Her heavy fat body, the skin of which was however magnificently smooth and exceedingly white, soon appeared. She wore a lace brassiere and a pink pair of panties over an enormously fat rump. Those two articles of clothing were also removed and then Miss Crimpton was entirely naked. Strange to say, in spite of her fatness, there was something very attractive in her body, probably because it majestic shapes were perfectly delineated.

“Slave,” she said, “I made you come hero so that I could use you, or rather your tongue, as an object of pleasure. So you’re going to be very attentive and affectionate and make all your best efforts to please me, if you don’t, want to be punished very severely. My horsewhip will always be here to give you a few warnings and force you to a slavish, devotion. I will tell you, if you need to give you a few warnings, you will be very sorry and you can be sure, I’ll punish you severely before I once more force you to an unceasing activity. Your slavish, tongue must neither slow down, nor tire before I say so. You probably don’t, know the kind of caresses I am fond of, but you will soon know. I don’t want ‘normal’ caresses from you, understand? It is only on my charming back orifice which, in your case, is at this very moment stopped up by a cork, that I want you to work with your tongue as diligently as possible. Do you get me?”

At first, Mabel did not catch the meaning of Miss Crimpton’s words. Then, all at once, she understood and her face made a grimace of horror and disgust. So that was what this fat Mistress wanted her to do? Oh, dear God! But she had not the leisure to even think it over, for Eva had come back to the bed and suddenly sat astraddle right on poor Mabel’s face. Crushed by the enormously hot buttocks, the poor slave was half stifled. She felt completely debased and dominated by the perverse whims that this fat woman was imposing upon her.

Miss Crimpton, bending forward a little, lifted up Mabel’s skirts up to her waist and, on the pretty belly of the girl, drawn tight by a thin silk pair of panties, she delivered a blow with the horsewhip which landed right on Mabel’s femininity.

The girl moaned loudly with pain and became more active in her loathsome task. Dominating her natural disgust, she tried as best she could to introduce her tongue well into her Mistress’ rear orifice.

“Better than that!” Eva shouted, whipping her slave like mad. “Drive it in more deeply! There, that’s good! Continue! No, more and more quickly and beware if you don’t satisfy me as I wish!”

Under the powerful buttocks crushing her face, the girl was getting nearly hysterical. She had thrown all modesty and disgust to the winds and was now boring deeply with her tongue, swabbing into her Mistress’s anus with only one thought — that of satisfying her. The whip vent down and down with clockwork regularity on the poor slave’s tender sex, tearing her panties to strips.

Soon, Eva Crimpton began to fidget like mad on her human seat. She felt pleasure come and stimulated Mabel with great severity. Her enormous moving, sweating rumps bruised the poor girl’s face and squeezed her as if in a moist vice. Finally, the Mistress’s body was shaken by a great shudder and her ass muscles relaxed. With a moan of pleasure, Eva let herself go and rolled on the bed, naked and shuddering with ecstasy, driving her fingernails into the sobbing slave’s face.

The Mistress stayed for a while prostrate and languid, shaken now and then by small shudders of bliss. At last she got up, but it was only to inflict a new torture to the unhappy slave.

Out of a cupboard, Eva took a strange-looking garment, it was a large pair of woman’s panties similar to normal ones, with the exception that the bottom was cut into a large opening which one could as one wished, shut or open it with a zipper. Miss Crimpton put on that garment and ordered Mabel to slip under the bedclothes.

The girl obeyed Eva, who went to the bed and pushed down her slave with her feet until Mabel’s face was level with her Mistress’s behind.

“Now, you’re going to put your head through the opening in the back of my panties,” Eva ordered, “and during the whole night, you will stay thusly, your face stuck next to my buttocks, and you will kiss and lick all over my arse until I fall asleep. And mind you, don’t disturb me at all during the night!”

Her mind in a whirl, completely repulsed, the slave still did as she had been told. The whole of her head disappeared into her Mistress’s panties and the latter shut it hermetically by means of the zipper which was then held fast by a string around her slave’s neck. Mabel had now become part of her Mistress and her face was completely imprisoned in her panties, keeping close company to the sweaty, enormous feminine buttocks.

The poor slave was very uncomfortable, extremely hot, for she was entirely dressed and her corset was squeezing her atrociously. The enormous buttocks-flesh pressing against her face, ran with perspiration and soon her hair became damp with the woman’s sweat. As for the suppository, its effect was torturing her a lot. On each move made by her Mistress, Mabel had to follow, for she could not detach herself in the least from the buttocks to which she was tied, or rather glued, as it were.

Never, since the beginning of her bondage, had the girl suffered so much morally and physically. She had the impression of an absolute degradation. Little by little, she lost conscience of her own personality; her face, stuck well to that fat, feminine behind, had lost all its former nobility and human dignity. It seemed to Mabel as if her face had itself become a behind, a fat, sweating posterior, since it was being treated as such.

When, ten long, long hours later, the girl was at last delivered from her strange prison, she tried in vain to recover her human mentality, but she could not, and instead, she fell unconscious, exhausted with the suffering and complete shame from the awful treatment she had been subjected to.

Miss Eva Crimpton as the experienced Mistress she was, had given Mabel the decisive stroke that forever put an end to Mabel Sunway’s personality. Mabel Sunway, the sophisticated and well-bred young society woman was gone, and in her place was something broken, without a spine or spirit. Now, Lord Kelington, coming back to his castle — would find only a meek slave without strength or will-power of her own, a slave who never again would or could become a free-thinking woman again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter VI

 

 

 

Life was following its slow dark course, uneventfully, at the Kelington Castle. Under the implacable yoke of her Mistress’s Mabel was becoming every day more broken and submissive. She had now acquired the real soul of a slave. She obeyed with equal zeal not just to the beautiful Dorothea von Berner, but also to the imposing Eva Crimpton and even to the hateful maid Bridget. Mabel still loathed Bridget, but now saw her, not just as a common maid, but as her superior in all things. Just a blow out of a whistle or an imperative clack of fingers sufficed to make Mabel throw herself on her knees in front of any of these three Mistress’s, with her body trembling, her eyes full of tears and her big buttocks apprehending and expecting a whipping.

One day, a letter addressed to Miss Mabel Sunway arrived at the castle. Naturally, it was Dorothy who opened it and read it. That letter, written in a high, elegant hand on perfumed paper, came from a certain Myriam Hekings who had been a school-friend of Mabel’s. The girl, after a thousand and one confidences such as are usually exchanged between old school pals, announced to her friend that she was ready to come to Kelington’s castle to visit her, since Mabel, before leaving for college, had invited her so kindly. She asked Lord Kelington’s niece to let her know if and when she was ready to receive her.

Dorothea showed the letter to Miss Crimpton who read it with great interest. The two Mistress’s, sitting in the drawing-room, ordered Bridget to fetch Mabel, who was cleaning Eva Crimpton’s bathroom. A few minutes later the young slave came into the room. She was very lovely even under her excessive make-up.

A pink satin corset was crushing her waist, leaving her full breasts completely naked, pushed up high and the tips of her breasts, her prominent nipples, had been painted in bright red. She was wearing a very short skirt made out of Scotch silk, and stopping just below her bottom cheeks; on her legs, up to her mid thighs, she wore white silk stockings with red garters and on her feet were black varnished shoes with extremely high heels. Her hands were bound with gold handcuffs behind her back, and the lower part of her face was gagged by a filthy brown rag. She had been on her hands and knees wiping off the bathroom surfaces with that rag. Not having the use of her hands, she had to polish the faucets and porcelain bowls with the rag tied on her face. Under that gag-rag, the girl’s cheeks were swollen as if she had an object in her mouth.

Under Dorothea’s order, Bridget undid Mabel’s gag and took off the object that was stuffing her mouth — a pair of 3 day-worn dirty panties belonging to Eva Crimpton, which the latter had imposed upon her in order to humiliate her.

The slave, on her knees, kissed respectfully her Mistress’s feet. In the movement of bending down, her short skirt climbed upwards over the moons of her rear, revealing for a while her buttocks clad in silk knickers the color of peaches and quite suggestive.

“I’m going to ask you questions, Mabel,” the governess declared in a severe voice, “and you’re going to answer them with absolute truthfulness, that is, if you want to avoid twenty stokes of the horsewhip which you will get for every lie you tell. Is that completely understood?”

“Y-yes, Divine Mistress!”

“Who is Myriam Hekings?”

The Pretty slave’s heart missed a beat. Her eyes widened as she glanced at the letter which Dorothea was holding nervously in her fingers and upon which she had just recognized her best friend’s handwriting.

“S-she’s a f-friend I had in m-my boarding-school, Divine M-Mistress,” she answered with an effort. “S-she’s twenty years old, and a very wealthy E-English girl, and I made her acquaintance in F-France. I had t-taken the liberty of inviting her here f-for a st-stay, at a t-time w-when I st-st-still th-thought th-that…”

“When you thought what? Answer me!”

“W-when I th-thought I would st-stay a f-free g-girl...”

“And this Myriam, Is she pretty?” Miss Crimpton asked.

“Oh, y-yes, Y-Your Honor, she’s ravishingly p-pretty, and also v-very elegant, and her c-character is very w-willful and stubborn.”

“And what’s her family situation?”

“M-Myriam has only her father left alive, D-Divine M-Mistress. H-he is an officer in the B-British army In India, and is hardly e-ever in England, th-that is why his d-daughter is full of independence.”

Miss Eva winked understandingly to her friend. “Now, all that seems perfect to me,” she said, smiling.

“Stand up!” Dorothea ordered, making her horsewhip lash the air. “Bridget, untie Mabel’s hands and sit her down to the desk!”

The governess stood up and came near her slave.

“And now, you will write what I’m going to dictate!” she ordered in a dry tone. “My Dear Myriam, I received your letter with great pleasure. Of course I shall be very glad to have you her at Kelington’s. We’re having quite a lot of fun here at the moment. Come as soon as you can, and bring all your clothes and things with you, for I won’t let you go so soon! Please wire the date of your arrival and a car will pick you up at the station. I’m looking forward to seeing you very much. With an affectionate kiss, Your Mabel.”

While she was writing, Mabel’s hands were trembling terribly. She had guessed that her Mistress was planning something very wicked and that Myriam Hekings would be the victim. She looked uneasily at her Mistress and ventured to say; “D-Divine M-Mistress, I b-beg y-you, n-not M-Myriam!”

Dorothea slapped her face with violence.

“So!” she cried, “a little bitch of a slave like you, you allow yourself the audacity to give your opinion? An opinion? An interfere in your Mistress’s affairs! Mind you don’t ever do that again, or else, beware of the whip!”

She addressed the maid Bridget; “Bridget, take this silly slave back to her toilet work!”

“And don’t forget,” Miss Crimpton recommended, “to gag her severely after having replaced my panties back into her mouth!” 

When Mabel had left the room with her only at lunch, Mistress Crimpton’s filthy panties, Miss Crimpton spoke again to her friend; “I hope, my dear Eva,” she said with a cruel smile, “that we shall soon have two slaves in Kelington’s castle.”

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

Three days later, Miss Myriam Hekings arrived unsuspecting into the Mistress’s lair. Mabel had not lied. Her friend was of great beauty. Two years older than Miss Sunway, she was slightly taller than the petite Mabel, and more mature. Her face was made up tastefully, with great care but without any excess and had green eyes and dark auburn hair. Her body was aristocratic charm, with a sensual mouth, large breasted for a girl fond of sports but, to judge from the roundness covering her tailor-maid suit, was quite curvaceous. Very elegant, she had in her gait something insolent and her head was held up quite proudly, showing that she knew about her beauty and her wealth.

Dorothea von Berner had arranged everything with careful planning for the girl’s arrival. At the station, Myriam was astonished not, to find her friend waiting for her. There was only a livered chauffeur hired for the occasion by Dorothea and who was at the wheel of Miss Crimpton’s car. He drove with another car behind, carrying all the suitcases and trunks belonging to the newcomer.

At the castle, she was received very courteously by Bridget, dressed up in a spruce maid’s outfit. She ushered Myriam into the luxuriously furnished parlor.

“Miss Mabel will be here in a moment,” she announced pleasantly.

Slightly taken aback by this odd greeting, Myriam waited for a long quarter of an hour, wondering why Mabel was not showing herself more eager to meet her. At last, the door opened and Miss Sunway came in.

“Mabel, darling!” said Myriam, “how happy I am to see you again!”

Impetuously she threw herself Into Mabel’s arms, then she drew back and said, astonished; “Whatever are you wearing under your dress? It- it’s hard!”

Mabel blushed scarlet.

“It’s... it’s m-my c-corset!” she said with an effort.

Miss Hekings burst out laughing.

“What? You? You who couldn’t bear any constraints on your body? You’re now wearing stays? You must be kidding me? You really have changed!”

While she was speaking, Myriam was examining her friend with surprise. Mabel had changed. She used to be so gay and merry, as well as quite coquettish, but now she seemed very shy and blushing and as If paralyzed by an unaccountable fright. Myriam was looking her up and down with growing astonishment. Why was Mabel made up like a whore? And with a large beauty patch at the corner of one eye and another near the mouth? Why was she standing so erect, with her eyes fixed and her head thrown back, and her arms hanging limply alongside her body? Her friend was also astonished to notice that Mabel had now a very waspish waist and an enormous bottom jutting out provocatively, and that her feet were shod in exaggeratedly high-heeled shoes. And what funny garments she was wearing! This white silk corset so tight, and her red silk skirt also very tight which molded her buttocks with indiscreet precision.

But proper etiquette dictated that she did not dare ask Mabel outright for the reasons of her strange way of dressing and the changes in her attitude. Instead, she just said gaily; “It was very kind of you to invite me to the castle. I hope we’re going to have lots of fun.”

“I hope so too,” the slave said softly in a strangled voice.

“What do you do here? Rides in cars? Tennis? Swimming?”

Mabel had a moment, betraying her fear, for she knew her Mistresses had to be close by.

“Oh no,” she answered, “I’m not allowed to.”

This time, Myriam did not, could not, hide her surprise.

“Well, what do you mean? You’ve always been so independent, The other girls at school admired you for that, for your spirit, I don’t understand. Who doesn’t allow you to have fun? My God, you’re seventeen and a half years of age, you’re no longer a baby, are you? Who is it, tell me?”

“My governesses,” the girl answered in a low voice.

“Governesses at your age? Decidedly, Mabel, you astonish me! I thought you to be made of stronger stuff than that! But, I say, darling, I’d better warn you that those honorable persons had better not try to impose their law upon me! And I hope that in my honor they will allow you a little more freedom than you seem to have, what?”

“Oh, hush, Myriam, if they hear you…!”

The distress in Mabel’s voice at possibly being overheard brought real alarm to Myriam all at once. She now began to realize that something more was afoot here. This was not her friend of old who stood before her, dressed and made up like a cheap tavern tart, whining and frightened.

At that precise moment, the door opened wide and Mabel drew back a few steps like a trained animal, bowing and lowering her head as Dorothea von Berner was entering the room. She was beautiful as always, with her proud face carefully made up, her black lustrous hair, her sculptured body strictly molded into a tight blue velvet tailor-made suit-jacket and matching skirt, her legs were encased in expensive silk stockings, her wrists circled with golden bracelets. She was holding in her hand a thin horsewhip with which she tapped nervously the tip of her leather shoes.

With a nonchalant step she advanced to the middle of the room, without appearing to have noticed the presence of Myriam Hekings. And she fixed Mabel with a hard expression in her eyes.

“Well? Aren’t I saluted properly today?”

Dumbfounded, Myriam saw the incredible sight of Mabel, blushing with shame, as she quickly knelt down, while casting a furtive glance in her direction; then she prostrated herself face down before the new-comer, licking like a dog the tips of her shoes. Insolently, the governess was eyeing the body groveling before her.

“And my bottom!” she said dryly.

Blushing more and more, poor Mabel half rose, then, crawling on her knees, she went behind Dorothea, lifted up her skirt a little, up to the bottom of the pink panties adorned with satin garters and then she put her head completely under the skirt. Applying her lips robustly against the meaty buttocks of her Mistress, Mabel remained nearly a minute in that position, loud, moist smacking sounds attesting to the fact that she was devotedly kissing the large, panty-covered buttocks of her Mistress.

Dumbstruck, mute with her stupor, Myriam had sat down on a sofa.

At that moment, Dorothea seemed to become aware of the girl’s presence and smiled at her; “You’re probably astonished to see your friend Mabel so transformed? Of course, she has failed to warn you about it. Let me tell you that Mabel Sunway is no longer the girl she once used to be; she has entirely lost all her high qualities of an heiress and an aristocrat. Come on out now, Mabel, tell us in your own words what you’ve become!”

She punctuated her order with a slight lash with the horsewhip and Mabel, ducking her bright red face out from under the skirts of her Mistress answered; “I’m only a humble slave now, Divine Mistress, an obedient little bitch, happy to belong to you, and completely subservient to your whip and whims.”

“That’s fine. Now stand up and put your hands behind your back when I’m talking to you. I haven’t seen you yet today. Are you well corseted and strapped? And do you feel under my absolute rule? Is your body submitting with respect to the discipline of your clothes?”

“Yes, Divine Mistress, I’m wearing under my dress a tightly-laced corset, my bottom is imprisoned, as you always wish it to be, in a slavishly tight pair of white silk panties which cling so tightly to my bottom that they do not make a single wrinkle or fold on my buttocks.”

“And you haven’t wetted them today, I hope? You’ve kept your need in check”

“Oh, yes, Divine Mistress!”

“Show me!”

With two trembling hands, Mabel lifted up her dress clear up to her waist. Myriam, dumbfounded, saw her friend’s enormous bottom sheathed in white silk drawers and strapped between her legs by a wide tape of varnished leather. Dorothea, putting her hands under the strap after having unbuckled it, felt and pawed for a long while Mabel’s femininity. “Have you been punished yet this morning?” she asked.

“Yes, Divine Mistress. Her Honor Miss Crimpton gave me the whip on my breasts because I hadn’t prostrated myself quickly enough when she was passing by. And Her Ladyship gave me the whip on my bottom because she found I hadn’t polished her shoes well enough.”

“That’s perfect!” mocked Dorothea with a cruel smile, “that will teach you, to be more careful in future, won’t it? And how come you have your hands free? Don’t you know that a slave like you should always have her hands tied when she’s not working? Turn around!”

Picking up the strings from the top of a table, the governess tied up with cord the hands of her slave, palm against palm; then, behind her back, she tied one elbow against the other, which was a very painful position to remain in for any length of time, though Mabel was beginning to be almost used to it by now, even the pain of being bound that way for hours at a time. Then Dorothea slapped Mabel violently across her face, once, twice, and again.

“That’s to teach you not to walk about with your hands free,” she said.

Myriam Hekings had viewed all that with growing stupefaction. It seemed she was having a strange dream and she hadn’t even the strength to raise a murmur of protest in front of the shameful spectacle that had been offered to her.

Miss von Berner then rang and Bridget appeared, with her fists akimbo and a mocking smile on her lips. Dorothea seized Mabel by her ear and threw her down to the chambermaid’s feet.

“I heard that you had some complaint this morning about the slave, my dear Bridget?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am, I had given her my shoes to clean and she didn’t even trouble to scrape the mud from under the heels, so I whipped her severely.”

“You did quite well. And you, little bitch, beg Her Ladyship’s pardon again for your negligence!”

Crimson with shame, Mabel prostrated herself before the maid Bridget and humbly kissed her feet.

“Oh, I beg Your Ladyship to please excuse and pardon me,” she moaned. “I shall be much more attentive to Your Ladyship’s orders and more obedient to you in the future.”

With a kick in her face, the maid obliged the slave to stand up.

“We’ll see if you’re as good as your promise,” she grumbled. “Don’t you forget that Miss von Berner has given me all rights to you and that you must learn to serve me like a well-styled domestic maid. I shall force you to with the whip!”

“Now, Bridget,” Dorothea said, “take this naughty girl away and put her to cleaning in the toilets on her knees until lunch-time. And, this afternoon, you can have her completely at your use and disposal so that you may teach her to obey you as she should.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m very glad, for today is my day off and I intend, if madam doesn’t mind, to receive a few friends for tea at the bottom of the park, and Mabel will be my personal maid and wait upon us.”

“All right, Bridget, the slave is yours until tonight. When you have put her in the toilets, come back here for I shall probably need you.”

Bridget bent down over Mabel and gave her a formidable pair of slaps on her already red cheeks.

“Follow me, little bitch, and beware if you aren’t the completely submissive slave I want you to be!”

Dorothea remained alone with Myriam Hekings. Smiling, she sat in front of the girl, who had become very pale.

“I think,” Myriam said, “that you won’t mind if I leave the castle immediately. I had come here invited by my friend Mabel, but now that I see what you’ve done to her, I don’t see how my presence here is in any way necessary.”

Dorothea did not answer at once. With a ghost of a smile playing upon her lips, she was playing with her horsewhip and seemed to be absorbed in her thoughts.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Hekings, quite wrong. You’ve come here in the hope of adjourning here for a long time. So I insist on satisfying that desire. I wish to see you remain here for a very long time!”

“In this castle? Or rather in this prison…?” the girl hissed angrily.

Dorothea stood up suddenly like a released spring. With flashing eyes she fixed Myriam.

“You’ve said it — a prison! That is the ‘mot juste’,” she ejaculated. “But it’s not only Mabel’s prison, but yours as well. For I intend to make a slave of you, also.”

“A slave? Are you mad?”

Dorothea’s arm jerked out and her horsewhip lashed Myriam’s cheek, tracing a bleeding mark on it. The girl howled with pain.

“Mad?” Dorothea. went on.” Is this the way a slave should speak to her Mistress? You’ll pay for that, my dear, you’ll pay for your insolence, your pride, all your horrible defects of a spoilt girl. I’ll make a servant, a bitch, of you, whether you like it or not! And, first of all, a slave should kneel when her Mistress condescends to speak to her. Go on, on your knees, bitch, on your knees!”

Miss von Berner, to give more weight to her words, lashed out again with the riding-crop, reaching Myriam Hekings right across her breasts and tearing the silk of her blouse swollen by her pretty bust.

The girl, howling with pain, drew back against the door. Her green eyes flashed with fury and her mouth foamed with rage. One felt within her a fearsome strength all reared up against the despotic force of Dorothea von Berner.

“You wicked woman!” she lashed out, “you damned creature, I despise and hate you! You want to make a slave out of me! Well, you’d better think again!”

With a brisk gesture, she opened the door and made as if to rush out but her body collided against Bridget’s who was barring the way and who seized her in her powerful arms.

“Quiet, my girl, quiet ! A slave doesn’t escape like this from her Mistress! I’m stronger than you are, and you should realize it!”

The maid twisted violently Myriam’s wrists, and the poor girl screamed with pain and, fury. Bridget made her go back into the room she had tried to leave.

“Nice work, Bridget!” Dorothea exclaimed laughing. You’re going to help me to give a whipping to this slave, for she’s really deserved it for her lack of submission.”

“I’m not a slave and I forbid you to treat me like this!” Miss Hekings howled, furiously.

Bridget did not heed her protests and, having tripped the girl’s body and sent it sprawling against the carpet, she nailed her to the floor by sitting astraddle on top of her.

“What shall I do with this fury, ma’am?” she asked quietly.

“Let’s tie her up on the sofa,” Dorothea answered. “We’re going to undress her and whip her bottom as she deserves.”

The maid got up and seized Myriam like a parcel and threw her down on a low sofa. Quickly and expertly the girl was trussed up like a sausage by a rope around her loins, another tying her ankles and a third fixing her hands to the legs of the sofa.

Vanquished and unable to defend herself, Myriam did not stop throwing abuse right and left. But Dorothea only laughed at her insults and useless fury. She took out a pair scissors from the drawer of a cupboard.

“It would be difficult to undress this slave without untying her,” she explained to Bridget, “so we shall use this method!”

She bent down over Myriam and used her scissors to cut through the material of the tailor-made suit, the blouse and the brassiere the girl was wearing. Then she removed the torn pieces and threw them away in a corner of the room. The velvety bare back of Myriam appeared in its sculptured beauty, which Dorothea contemplated with a satisfied smile. Then the governess slipped her hand under the sprawling body of Miss Hekings and palpated her bare breasts crushed against the sofa.

“This is a mighty fine bust for a slave!” she exclaimed. “What pleasure I shall have to torture these arrogant breasts which are mine from now on!”

“Brute, dirty brute!” cried Myriam, who was choking with rage.

“And now, the skirt!” Miss von Berner said.

Arming herself again with the scissors she spilt the grey dress on all its length, made it slip down and threw it in a corner of the room. The girl’s insolently curved out bottom offered itself to the mocking sight of the two torturers. It was a really massive buttocks, straining at the material of the pink silk panties which Myriam was wearing. Under the lace hemming the knickers, there appeared the long, sun-tanned, and appetizing thighs, the fine legs sheathed in beige silk stockings.

With her long nails, Dorothea pinched the bottom of her victim and laughed insolently.

“Now, this is a bottom after my own liking, one that seems ideal for receiving the whip! And this pair of panties — It’s so tight on you that it’s nearly like that of a slave. So madam likes being tight in her underclothes. Well, madam will have her wishes more than fulfilled —starting from tomorrow, she’ll have to wear corsets and we’ll teach her to wear discipline-drawers, well-strapped, like those worn by her friend Mabel! Meanwhile we’re going to remove these with the whip on her bottom!”

The governess, having spoken, drew back one step, took a firm hold on the thin leather horsewhip and applied a hard blow on Myriam’s buttocks. It was so hard that the panties split. Mad with shame and pain, Miss Hekings had made a great effort not to scream. With her head buried in the cushions, she let out a long moan.

“The bitch has a tough skin,” Miss von Berner said. “So much the worse for your bottom, bitch. I’ll stop punishing only when this slave Is ready to lick at my feet.”

Other lashes followed, more and more violent. Through the rips in the drawers the buttocks appeared, striped with long red streaks. Soon, the material which covered the victim’s bottom was reduced to a shapeless rag. There only remained a few shreds of pink silk stuck well between the girl’s buttocks; it was on this ultimate target that Dorothea showered her blows, which rained down on the youthful flesh, digging each time a bleeding furrow.

Myriam, who had resisted for a long while, was now at the end of her physical resistance. Her moans had soon been succeeded by screams, then by inhuman howls.

“Are your ready to admit you’re my slave ? Dorothea asked.

“Never!” the unfortunate girl sobbed. “I’d rather die!”

“All right, then, I’ll continue!” the governess said. “But I’m tired of hearing your screams. Bridget, sit down on this girl’s face and gag her under the weight of your buttocks!”

The servant laughed. It was a real pleasure for her to carry out such orders. She lifted up her skirts, showing her bottom sheathed in panties of a doubtfully white color. She pulled Myriam’s hair, obliging her to turn her head aside, and then, she could not resist the impulse of giving her a very hard slap on her cheek. Then she sat heavily on the girl’s head which disappeared entirely, crushed under the maid’s full-fleshed buttocks. Bridget, smiling, let her skirts go down in order to imprison Myriam’s head completely in her underclothes.

Then Dorothea resumed the punishment. For ten long minutes she whipped, without bothering about the state of her victim. The fine fleshed bottom, now quite bare, was covering itself with blisters and swellings. Here and there, a bloody rivulet was running along the buttocks, losing itself in the cushions of the sofa.

Had Myriam fainted? She could not tell, for the girl, entirely covered by Bridget’s bottom, could not make herself heard.

“Get up, Bridget!” Miss von Berner said at last. “I think the slave has been punished enough now!”

The maid arose, disengaging from under her skirts the red, bruised and tearful face of Mabel’s friend.

“Now, bitch,” the governess said in a dry tone, “have you become more docile? Are you ready to make me a good slave ?“

“I’ll do anything you ask,” Myriam murmured, vanquished.

Smiling, Dorothea sat on her victim’s loins, making her gasp with her weight.

“Now, Myriam Hekings, you’re my slave,” she went on. “Mind you never forget it; From now on, you will have no other personality than that of your Mistress, or rather your Mistress’s. The whip will be your only God. And let me tell you that you will never be free again, never! You will remain a slave until the day you die. Your father, the only member of your family alive, Is now in India and I’ve prepared everything so that he will learn that you have died accidentally, so nobody is ever going to bother about you and you’ll be able to devote your whole life to the service of your Mistress’s.”

With a moan, Myriam had heard that terrible sentence. But what could she do about it? She was broken with weariness and humiliation, and her flesh was afire, her body tied up. Yes, she was really at the mercy of the cruel governess! And she understood that her lot would become the same as that of Mabel. Could she have imagined it only a few moments ago when she had witnessed Mabel debasing herself? Could she have dreamed that soon she would be reduced to the same bondage? It seemed impossible, like a nightmare from which she would, thank God, soon wake up.

At that moment the door opened and Eva Crimpton appeared. The fat woman, sheathed In a black skirt and white satin blouse was, as usual, outrageously made up and bejeweled.

“Ah, you arrive just in time, dear,” Dorothea told her. “I’ve just tamed a new slave.”

With majestic steps Eva went up to the sofa upon which Myriam was lying. She viewed her through her lorgnette.

“Perfect, perfect!” she exclaimed. “This is a fine slip of a girl, indeed. When she has been well corseted and when the whip has taught her discipline, I’m sure she’ll be a very satisfying bitch.. What’s your name, young slave?”

Miss Hekings, in a moment of pride, did not answer. But Dorothea gave her a pair of slaps, punctuated with the words; “Don’t you answer your Mistress now?”

“My name’s Myriam,” the girl said with an effort.

“Call this lady “Mistress” If you don’t want another whipping! Go on, say it!”

“My name’s Myriam, Mistress.”

“My dear Eva,” the governess went on, “I intend to present this now slave to you. She will be attached to your personal service, since Mabel belongs to me. See we’ll have one slave each and everything will be ideal!”

“Perfect!” Miss Crimpton said. “I shall teach this girl according to my liking and she will be my personal chamber slave.”

She got near Myriam and seized the tips of her ears which she shook with force.

“Do you hear, bitch, you’ll be my personal chambermaid, from now on! And beware that you obey me perfectly, if you want to avoid the whip! Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress!”

“Good! I’m going to untie you, so that you can begin at once your service with me.”

The fat Mistress, having spoken, went to sit on a comfortable armchair while Dorothea and Bridget untied the slave and obliged her to get up. Then, all naked, she was thrown to the feet of Eva Crimpton.

“Kiss my feet, slave, and tell me that you will belong to me always!”

She accompanied her order with a violent blow with her riding-crop on Miss Heking’s breasts, With rage in her heart, the girl had to do as she was told.

“And now, open my purse, take out a cigarette, put it in my mouth and light it for me!”

When that was done, Miss Crimpton smoked silently, now and then blowing the smoke into the kneeling slave’s face. She had ordered her to hold the palm of her hand up to be used as an ash-tray. Miss Hekings viewed with awe this still attractive, quite plump woman whom she did not even know less than an hour before and who was already treating her like the lowest of slaves. On her knees, with her buttocks afire, subjugated by the imperious charm that emanated from Eva Crimpton, she did not dare make a move,

Yet, pride was not completely quashed in Myriam’s heart. When Eva ordered her to open her mouth to use as a spittoon, the girl gave a start of revolt.

“Never, never shall I stoop so low,” she whispered, “I’d rather die.”

“So you refuse to obey,” Miss Crimpton said calmly. “All right, you force me to use certain methods of discipline which will make you quickly change your mind. Bridget, go to my room and bring back a pair of discipline panties, a whip and some gags!”

The maid was soon back with the required objects. The discipline panties were indeed a curious instrument they were very short and made of strong red rubber and their bottom was fitted with two big cylinders of hard rubber, having the diameter of large candles and being about three inches long.

Eva Crimpton turned these drawers inside out, daubed some Vaseline on the cylinders and sprinkled them with red pepper. Then, helped by Dorothea and Bridget who were holding Myriam firmly, she slipped these strange panties on her, all along her thighs and then the two cylinders were driven to the hilt into the hapless girl’s corresponding holes — one into her vagina, and the other into her anus.

The girl howled with pain, for, under the pressure, her maidenhead had been unceremoniously ripped open, and pain was gnawing at her entrails. As for the other cylinder, it was making her suffer just as much, impaling the slave as it was. The drawers were tightened to the maximum which had the effect of keeping the two cylinders well in to the hilt. Myriam felt herself bored and gored by the two terrible rubber sticks and awfully burnt by the red pepper with which they were smeared.

They put the unfortunate slave up on her feet and tied her hands behind her back. Then she was gagged severely and blindfolded with a silk neckerchief. Eva Crimpton, in a refinement of cruelty, pulled on this neckerchief and tied its ends to the slave’s wrists, which had the result of pulling her head painfully backwards.

“I hope,” the fat woman mocked, “that you’re now feeling completely in my power? Here you are, incapable of speaking, seeing, moving your arms or lowering your head. This is the way a good slave in discipline should hold herself. And now, you’re going to grope your way —round the room, and don’t stop walking. Beware if you don’t obey. Now, start!”

The order was punctuated by a terrible lash with the horsewhip on Myriam’s breasts.
Moaning, the girl started walking. Each step was for her a torture because of the cylinders that were moving around inside her. Every now and then, either Eva Crimpton or Dorothea lashed out with their whips which landed on her legs, on her back or on her breasts. Under her gag the poor slave made muffled sounds of pain and fright. She felt debased, dominated, hurt, but every time she stopped walking, the whip descended upon her with rage.

That terrible walk lasted more than a half hour. The two Mistress’s and the maid took an extreme pleasure in watching Myriam’s sufferings. They lashed the unfortunate girl without pity to make her walk faster, and she kept bumping into furniture which she could not see as she was blindfolded.

At last, exhausted, the slave crumpled down to the carpet. She was half unconscious and neither insults nor blows could pull her out of her immobility. So they took off her gag and bonds and laid her on a sofa to enable her to come to.

“Well, slave, do you still want to disobey me? Do you want another little walk like the one you’ve just had?”

An expression of intense terror flashed in Myriam’s pretty eyes.

“Oh, no, Mistress, please not that! Oh, not that! I’m ready to satisfy you in everything, but please don’t torture me anymore I beg of you!”

“That’s fine. A while ago I had ordered you to open your month as a spittoon for me. Are you ready to obey that order now?”

At once, the girl opened her scarlet mouth and tipped back her head. With sadistic joy, Miss Crimpton bent down and, hacking a few times, spat right into the offered mouth. Dorothea von Berner and Bridget followed suit.

“You see,” Eva mocked, as the slave was made to swallow the thick mouthful of spit and phlegm, “you were made to submit to all my whims without discussing them, even the most degrading ones. I’ll forgive you for your disobedience but you will have to keep on your discipline panties till tonight And now, I shall take you to my room so that I can dress you up as I fancy. Then you will begin your apprenticeship for becoming my personal work and chambermaid. Follow me!”

With a horsewhip in her hand, she went out of the room, followed by Myriam.

A few hours later the same girl, strictly corseted, wearing boots up to her mid-thigh, and with a discipline-bit in her mouth, was looking after the plump Mistress like the most submissive of slaves. Once more, the magical force of the whip had produced its desired effect. There were now two slaves in Kelington castle.

In the course of the same day, Bridget, who had a day off, was to receive a few girlfriends for tea. The maid had received permission to organize her reception in a small hunting-lodge at the bottom of the park and to use Mabel’s services, whom Miss von Berner had put completely at her disposal.

The poor slave was still doing penance, kneeling and scrubbing in the toilets, when Bridget came to fetch her. She had to accompany the maid to her room, helping her to change her dress and underclothes. To honor her guests, Bridget had made herself beautiful. She was wearing a sky-blue dress and Mabel had brushed her hair and made up her face for her, Then, Bridget checked how her slave was dressed and made her put on a short black satin skirt stopping at upper thigh-level, a lace bonnet and a little lace maid’s apron.

“Today,” she said, “you’re my personal maid. You’re going to follow me to the lodge where you will bring tea, port wine and sweet-cakes, which I’ve prepared. And when my friends come, don’t forget to kneel down in front of them and to clean with your tongue the dust off their shoes. Then you will take their coats off them and you’ll tell them: ‘Ladies, I am Miss Bridget’s personal slave and, under the orders of my Mistress, I have the honor to put myself at your disposal also, to serve you and obey all your orders. If I don’t satisfy you as you wish, I beg you to punish me very severely and thank you for it…’ Understood?”

“Yes, Your Ladyship.”

“Today, I won’t let you call me ‘Your Ladyship’. You will call me ‘Mistress,’ do you hear me?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good. Follow me!”

A few minutes later, Bridget, comfortably reclining on a sofa in the hunting-lodge, was waiting for her guests while chiding her slave, kneeling in front of her.

The girlfriends she was expecting were four. First, there was May Colson, a pretty twenty-year old blonde with an arch expression, who was employed by the neighboring castle owners as a maid; then there was Roberta Grey, a robust young woman, very vulgar, who lived in London as a prostitute and whom Bridget had known a long time for they had been born in the same village. Then there was Gladys Smith, a thirty-five year old woman who used to be a maid but now lived with her lover, a bad character of the village. She was accompanied by her daughter, a fourteen-year old girl, bold-looking, simple of mind, and who had a very bad reputation in the village.

It is easy to understand what a humiliation it was for the former heiress who had become a slave, to be obliged to stoop in front of those vulgar women with whom, a few months earlier, she would not have even shaken hands.

The four guests arrived together and, laughing, went into the room where Bridget was expecting them. Bridget had already told them about everything and they knew what to expect, and it can be easily appreciated how pleased and thrilled they were at the idea of a young woman from the high society acting as their maid and slave.

Lashed by a violent blow from the horsewhip, Mabel had to prostrate herself in front of the women and repeat word for word, the humiliating sentence she had learnt.

“Lick these ladies feet, bitch!” Bridget ordered. First, the slave knelt down in front of May and put her lips on the blond girl’s elegant varnished shoes. The girl looked at her despisingly.

“Better than that!” she ordered suddenly. “Don’t you see that there is still some dust left, you fool? And under the sole? Can’t you clean my shoe any better than that?”

Under the quips and laughs of the girls, Mabel completed the cleaning with her tongue. Then she knelt down in front of Roberta, the prostitute, and licked her black buckskin shoes. Then came Gladys Smith’s turn. Exhausted and with her tongue all coated with dust, Mabel was about to stand up when Gladys seized her rudely by the hair.

“Well, is that all?” she exclaimed, furious. “And my daughter? Aren’t you going to salute her? Even though she’s only fourteen, you owe her respect, you worthless slave!”

Mabel, In despair, knelt down in front of the sniggering flapper and licked her dirty shoes.

“Slap her face, Molly,” Bridget said, “slap her hard to punish her for her lack of courtesy towards you!”

The child did not have to hear the invitation twice — her little hand shot out with violence and slapped Mabel’s cheeks six times.

May was laughing her head off.

“It’s wonderful to have a slave!” she cried. “I’d love to teach my employer to serve me like this! What a vengeance that would be!”

“And you know,” Bridget added, “she is perfectly tamed, you can ask her to do. anything you like. Why, even if you spat in her face, she would thank you for doing her the honor!”

“Oh, can we do it?” Molly asked. “Will she really thank us for spitting in her face?”

“Well, let’s try and see!” the blonde said. She bent down and spat twice on Mabel’s face, and her saliva, mixed with lipstick, ran down the slave’s cheek.

“Now, what do you say?” she asked, provocatively.

“Thank you, madam,” Mabel whispered, almost sobbing.

Roberta was examining the slave. “She’s funnily dressed, isn’t she?” she remarked.

“She’s dressed the way a slave should be to serve her Mistresses,” Bridget answered. ‘Stand up, bitch, and draw up your skirts high to show these ladles how well you’re strapped and corseted!”

In front of the laughing women, the girl had to stand up and lift up her skirts shoulder high. Her thin waist appeared, terribly squeezed in a black leather corset, and her big rumps sheathed narrowly in pink silk panties, with a pretty varnished leather strap tight up between her thighs.

“I would like to see her bottom naked,” little Molly said.

“She will certainly show it to us in just a while, when she’s deserved a whipping,” Bridget said. “For the moment, she’s going to serve us tea.”

Three of the women sat down on the sofa and the other two on armchairs. The slave had to wait upon them on her knees, stimulated by slaps on the face which showered upon her from all quarters. After tea, the women smoked cigarettes and Mabel stretched out on the floor to be a carpet to them. Ten feminine feet trod her body and face, bruising them atrociously. The girls talked and laughed with a vulgarity, without giving a thought to the slave’s sufferings, which horrified their unfortunate victim.

“She can also be used as a seat,” Bridget said after a while. “Come on, bitch, lie down on your stomach on the sofa!”

Mabel, having obeyed, the maid then invited her friends to sit on the slave. Molly sat on her legs, Gladys on her stomach, Roberta on her breasts and May smack on the face.

Horribly stifling and bruised, overwhelmed by that quadruple weight, Mabel thought her last hour had come. But she had to resist for more than an hour. And when the guests at last condescended to get up, they had to make her come to, for she had at last, fainted.

After only a few minutes of rest, she had to resume her service. To humiliate her, Bridget obliged her to slip her head under each of the women’s skirts, kissing each bottom several times in turn. Ignoring her natural repulsion, Mabel had to press her pretty face against May’s natty seat, covered with pink silk, then onto Roberta’s powerful buttocks, sheathed in black lace knickers, then on the big buttocks of Gladys, then on the small panties covering Molly’s precocious roundness.

But her humiliations were not over. May, the blond maid, having asked to go and see a man about a dog, Bridget loaned her the slave who went to the toilet with her and had to clean her afterwards with her tongue. Then, one after the other, all the other guests did likewise, and Mabel had thus to spend a long half hour satisfying their dirty whims.
Under the false pretext that the slave had not unbuttoned fast enough Molly’s panties, she was sentenced to a whipping. Under her Mistress’s orders, she had to bare her bottom, showing her big buttocks still bearing the livid marks of her daily punishments. The women also laughed at the sight of her depilated sex. Then she was tied onto a sofa and gagged with May’s dirty panties. Then Bridget and her four girlfriends, one after the other, flogged to blood Mabel’s buttocks with a horsewhip.

After she had thanked her torturers on her on her knees, Mabel was sent for a walk in the park with little Molly. The cruel child, after having pinched her in many places, and insulted her to her heart’s content, laughed at her, glad of the unique opportunity offered to her. She suddenly thought it would be a wonderful idea if she used the slave as a mount. So, sitting on her shoulders and holding onto her hair with her left hand and armed with a horsewhip in her right, she made Mabel run in the paths as fast as she could, and scratched her and kicked and slapped her as she ran, lashing her cruelly.

Finally, the women went away, delighted with their entertaining afternoon, and, as a parting gift, they made her kneel and open her mouth and all of them spat into Mabel’s face. Mabel had to swallow their spittle and snot and thank them for honoring her with their gift.

Mabel went back into the castle, completely humiliated, another level of her spirit broken through by the hated Bridget who had succeeded in filling her with even more shame. It had been one of the worst days of her slavery and it was nearly a relief for her to resume her submissive service with Dorothea von Berner. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

 

Three more months had elapsed. Life in Kelington Castle had been hell for the two slaves and a source of perverse amusements for the two mistresses and the cruel maid.

Mabel Sunway and Myriam Hekings had forever lost any shadow of their personality. They had become passive things, obedient like bitches, fearing the whip, submitting at once and without any hesitation or discussion to any order that was given them, even the most fanciful, humiliating or disgusting. They were no longer considered to be women by the Mistresses, or even themselves— just slaves condemned to a lifetime of complete servitude and abject submission.

And the Mistress’s magnetic power was so great over them that the slaves had soon reached the stage where they actually adored them while still fearing them. Mabel knew no other reason for living than to breathe Dorothea von Berner’s female perfume, to lick at her feet and live under her skirts. As for Myriam, she knew no other religion than the whip and no other God and worship than Eva Crimpton’s fat, obese body.

But, alas, all good things must come to an end. The holiday over, Eva Crimpton had to go back to the boarding-school which she managed and which was nothing more than a penitentiary. Since Myriam Hekings belonged to her for life now, she had decided to take her with her as her personal maid, Thanks to whippings and continual discipline, Myriam had become a model chamber-slave and, at night, she was now quite an expert caresser, satisfying her Mistress’s special tastes for analingus marvelously well.

The day, Eva Crimpton was leaving Kelington Castle till the next holidays, elegant and perfumed, she was driving her luxurious car. Next to her, a young woman was sitting motionless covered with a huge mac having the hood down. Under it, the girl was tied up tightly, her ankles together, and her hands behind her back. Her magnificent young body was squeezed painfully into an iron corset, her youthful behind imprisoned in a triple pair of rubber panties and strapped by a wide leather tape. Under the hood, the pretty mouth was gagged by means of — yes, you’ve guessed it! — Eva Crimpton’s soiled panties! Scotch tape sealed them in place, over which a silk shawl had been tied. And, finally, she was blindfolded. That young woman, unable to move, speak or see, was, of course, Myriam Hekings, or rather “Slave Myriam” now, who was leaving with her Mistress, the castle of sufferings to go on to another still more painful destiny.

After the last minute kisses and embraces between the two friends, the car started and Dorothea followed her with her eyes until it became a black dot on the horizon.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

The beautiful governess and Brigitte were again alone with their slave. But not for long, for, that evening, Lord Kelington was to return to the castle after his long absence. Having been keeping in contact with Dorothea, he was quite happy at the idea of finding his niece a completely tamed and transformed creature. Although he had been assured of her transformation, he found it hard to believe it could be completely true.

But his wishes were more than fulfilled, for, almost as soon as he entered the castle, no more than a few minutes after he had been seated and sat drinking an expensive glass of brandy than a young girl, a leash around her neck, was ushered into the sitting room and threw herself at his feet. A girl? No, rather a trembling, quivering, abject little slave, made up, quite tartily, very much like a prostitute, with a waspish waist and a skirt so short that one could see, when she was only slightly bending, her big buttocks sheathed in pink silk panties. And, while the lord recovered from his surprise at recognizing his niece Mabel, the latter was busy licking his shoes like a mere dog. Behind her stood Dorothea von Berner, in a long, tightly molded black velvet dress, and holding a horsewhip.

“This little slave has something to tell you Milord!” the governess said.

She gave the girl a lash on her bottom and then the girl’s voice pronounced the words she’d been taught to say; “Master, I beg humbly of you that you should no longer consider me as your ward but, instead, as an obedient little bitch. I am no longer Mabel Sunway, a wealthy society girl, but only a mere servant and slave that belongs to the Divine Mistress Dorothea. On your desk, Master, you will find a legal document signed by me and renouncing my entire fortune in your favor. I beg you humbly to be so kind as to keep me on as your slave in this castle and I shall do my best to serve you. I shall also give to you, should you see fit to use it, the humble pleasures of my body. It is only the worthless body of a mere slave, but this worthless body of mine will belong completely to you whenever you want it for your use and pleasure. I swear to you complete humility, obedience and devoted faithfulness.”

After her speech, Mabel continued to lick at length the lord’s dusty shoes. The latter, dumbstruck for a while, considered the governess with great admiration

“You’ve worked a miracle, Miss von Berner,” he said at last. “I cannot believe it! I was expecting a change, but nothing like this, I can assure you!”

Then, to the kneeling girl, he said; “That’s fine, little slave, I take good note of all your declarations and promises. But, unfortunately for you, my pet, I shall not be keeping you in this castle. You see, you do not belong to me. You belong to Miss von Berner now, I promised you to her if she broke and trained you properly, and as we both know, she has done a remarkable job of it. As much as I would enjoy keeping you on here as my servant and maid, I simply couldn’t renege on my promise deprive her of your considerable services, which I’m sure she has been enjoying immensely.”

“But, Milord,” Dorothea said smirking, “as much as I do enjoy this little creature, and would enjoy keeping her as my pet for a time, you might want to reconsider, this little slave can be of some service to you. She’s an excellent chambermaid who has been trained in all aspects of household chores and can do all kinds of domestic work as well as the more personal, intimate kind. And, I might add, I’ve kept her a virgin so far...”

Lord Kelington went into a brown study for a while, looking into Dorothea’s beautiful face now and then as if for inspiration.

“There could be a way, of course,” he ventured at last. “Where you could keep her as your personal slave, and I could still enjoy her services as well, when you’re not using her yourself, of course.”

“Yes, milord…?” Dorothea asked, a smirk of understanding beginning to dawn on her.

The man walked up to her and softly took her hands in his.

“I shall be quite frank, Dorothea. You know the admiration I have for you, and which I might add, is not only an admiration for your capabilities. So, what I’m proposing is, would you do me the great honor of accepting my offer to remain at the castle as my companion, my wife? In that way, the slave would remain entirely at your service without having to leave Kelington, and I too, could enjoy the pleasures this slave’s body has to offer, as well as the benefit of her newfound domestic skills.”

Dorothea’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. As an answer, she drew against the lord and opened her lips invitingly.

Above Mabel’s kneeling body the future lovers, future spouses exchanged a passionate kiss. Mabel’s undoing had been the event which brought the two lovers together. Her introduction to a life of humiliation, pain and slavery, had been the impetus for bringing them both, wealth and happiness!

A few hours later, after a good meal, Lord Kelington and Miss von Berner sipped coffee in the drawing room, sitting side by side on a plush sofa. Lying down in front of them, Mabel acted as their carpet. The lord’s feet lay on her breasts and Dorothea’s on her face. As the governess’s skirt rode higher on her thighs, Mabel faced her Mistress’s fine thighs. She could see well between them, above the smart stockings, and she could even see her silk panties upon which Lord Kelington now and then slipped his hand...

But soon a blow from the heel of her Mistress’s shoe on Mabel’s mouth recalled her to her duty.

“Kneel down before me, Mabel!”

After the girl had quickly obeyed, the governess ordered; “You will go to Bridget and inform her of the news of your Divine Mistress and your uncle’s impending wedding in the near future. You will let her know that since you will be staying on here as the slave and domestic servant of this castle, that she should continue to make use of your talents and services as her own domestic servant and slave as she has been doing right along. For you are not only the slave of your uncle and myself, but you are also going to be Brigitte’s personal chambermaid as well. You will humbly ask her to dress you up in a tight corset, stockings and rubber drawers, then you will go and wait for me in my room, where you will be ready to undress me and wash me before I go to bed. Then…”

“Then?” Lord Kelington asked with a cruel smile.

“Then,” Dorothea went on in a lower voice, “you will wait for your Master and undress and wash him also. After that slave, you will remain all night at our disposal too. And when we are both in our bed, you will be the fortunate and impotent witness of the first night of love of your new Master and your Divine Mistress.”

And to aid her anticipation on this sweet prospect, the governess turned towards Lord Kelington and again offered her lips to him while Mabel, the submissive slave, hastened towards her cruel and final destiny.

 

 

THE END