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Fox and Hounds Part 6
They followed Ms Harding over to the guest house flanked by the cadre of staff,
like prisoners being marched to jail. They were ushered inside a meeting room
and were seated in a row of chairs. Carol Harding addressed the group.
"Now believe it or not, our job here is to pamper you. For awhile, anyway," she
added with a tight smile.
"For the next couple of hours, until they call for us, you will use the spa in
this building. We have sauna, whirlpool, and steam rooms. We want you cleaned up
and looking pretty. You will have about an hour to bathe, then you will receive
a massage. A special lotion will be massaged into your skin that will help
prevent abrasions or other injury. Ladies, we have cosmeticians, hairdressers
and manicurists. They are all at your disposal. Later, you will be fed in our
banquet room.
You will each be assigned two attendants who will cater to your every desire.
Do not hesitate to ask them for anything, but obey their instructions. We do not
want a repeat of that scene in the garden," she said looking pointedly at
Dottie.
"Now I will repeat this later, but at the banquet you will each see a small vial
of liquid at your seat. I encourage you to drink it with dinner. It is an herbal
cocktail that will relax you by inducing a mild state of euphoria. It will also
help you to tolerate the whipping that's coming by accelerating the release of
endorphins. It also contains an aphrodisiac. Believe me, this drink will make
the experience tolerable, and for some of you, perhaps even exciting."
Ms Harding indicated that they should follow her and she rose and led them into
the spa, which looked like an opulent Roman bath.
"Please disrobe now. You will not be needing clothes, and what you do need will
be provided by us. Your clothing will be cleaned and returned to you later."
"What, we strip in front of these guys?" asked Dottie incredulously.
"You will all be naked later in front of 100 people. What does it matter now?"
said Carol. "So do as you are told. Strip."
Where did they get her, thought Cindy, from some local women's prison?
"She's right," said Sarah with a sigh, "Being naked here is the least of our
worries. We already got our bare buns tanned in front of everybody."
They all proceeded to disrobe. To Howard and Ken it was intoxicating to see
these lovely women strip right in front of them--and it showed. Becky was cute
with a small but well rounded bottom and small but perky breasts. Sarah's
willowy figure with its long waist was offset by the fullness of her hips.
Slender Kathleen had upwardly pointing breasts and a classic teardrop-shaped
ass. Dottie was buxom and her voluptuous fanny bore the red finger marks from
Gunter's hard hand. The two men did their best to hide the effect that the sight
of the women's bodies was producing, but it was a losing battle and both men
blushed.
"That's all right, boys, those things won't go away for a while so just enjoy
it," chuckled Ms Harding.
The girls, meanwhile, getting used to the idea of being naked, smirked at their
obvious discomfort. Everyone's bottoms bore a light red flush, the after effect
of the spankings they had all received.
Cindy had to admit, they were treated well. It felt so good to bathe, and to
lounge in the jacuzzi, and the massage was dreamy. She had her hair done in a
straight but full style, setting off her eyes and face beautifully. I could get
used to this she thought, and then with a shock she remembered the reason why
they were being pampered so. It was so that they would be made beautiful for the
lashing that was the penalty for being caught or being unlucky. And what about
Mark? She had to admit that being turned over his knee, bare bottom upended for
her spanking, had been kind of sexy. The stinging in her behind had receded to a
faint pleasant glow, courtesy of the massage with that lotion. She remembered
the feel of his body from Friday night and the strong grip of his hand pulling
her back from the cliff, not to mention the stern admonishment he gave her
before pulling her across his lap and spanking her...and he'd done a good job of
that. It made her weak in the knees.
They were given robes and ushered into a small banquet room for the evening
meal. At each of the 8 place settings was the promised vial. Kathleen took hers
and said, "Well, I don't know about you, but I say, 'bottoms up'---oops what a
bad pun!" And she drank it. Everyone else broke out laughing, but then they all
drank the potion.
"I figure anything that helps me get through this is Ok by me," said Becky,
whose buns still tingled, courtesy of Anna Granville. The sentiment was echoed
by the others.
Cindy realized as the meal continued, that the clock was ticking down. Soon
someone would enter that room and tell them it was time to go. She also realized
that as time passed the prospect seemed less frightening. It was because she was
becoming sexually aroused--- she could feel it. Was this the mysterious potion
working? She wondered if the others could feel the warm flush that was spreading
from the pit of her stomach to her pussy, and making her nipples hard. Maybe the
others felt it too. The conversation centered on the forfeits. Which was worse,
the martinet or the whip? Would the birch sting as much as either?
Then there was the sound at the door and eight anxious pairs of eyes were drawn
to the entrance. Ms Harding reappeared. This was it.
She could feel the butterflies return as she realized that this was really about
to happen.
Carol Harding stood there with the crew of attendants, eight of whom were
holding what appeared to be white cloaks. The other eight held a type of manacle
or wrist restraint.
"Its time," she announced. "Please stand up and drop your robes, you won't be
needing them anymore."
The 8 rose reluctantly to face the attendants who had moved into the spacious
banquet room. Cindy gulped and took off her robe, letting it drop to the floor.
She saw the others doing the same.
"Please hold out your hands. I'm sorry but you will all have to be restrained
for this." As she spoke, the soft manacles, having a short length of chain
between them, were placed on her wrists. A white cloak was placed over her
shoulders that was tied with a drawstring at the neck. We all look like vestal
virgins ready to be led off to some pagan sacrifice, she thought. And in a way,
that was exactly what was happening. Here they were, naked under the thin
cloaks, manacled and ready to be led away to a public whipping, a sexually
charged entertainment spectacle for the victors of the game.
They proceeded single file over to the main hotel, the penitants flanked by the
staff, one on each side. To think of escape was impossible. They were naked
under the cloaks, barefoot and manacled. They were led into the ballroom and
lined up along the wall behind a stage containing the various apparatus of
punishment. The pillory, the whipping post and the frame were lined up, side by
side, waiting for their victims. The guests were already present, sitting in the
boxes facing the stage or in chairs on the floor. The lighting was dim except
for spotlights trained on the stage. Though it was hard to see, Cindy searched
for Mark, and meeting his eyes, blushed and lowered her head. He had a look of
concern, no doubt thinking about what was to come in just a few moments.
Cindy saw Ms Julia enter from a side door. She was wearing a black bustier with
a flounced very short skirt that barely covered her bottom cheeks. She wore
thigh length black boots with 5" heels that accentuated her long legs and
voluptuous rear. The chatter stopped and all eyes turned her way as her heels
clicked across the hard floor and she ascended the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to begin," she announced. A lovely female
staffer wearing a short tunic that looked like an old English herald's costume
took the stage and unfurled a rolled proclamation. In a loud voice she
exclaimed:
"Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye. By order of the Mistress of the Hunt, the captured
foxes and the vanquished hunters will now undergo the lawful chastisement
proscribed by the rules of the hunt. The penalty to be inflicted upon those so
designated will consist of a sound lashing. The implement and the number of
strokes will be determined by chance. All present are invited to witness
punishment."
All applauded as the "herald" took a bow and retreated from the stage.
Julia addressed the group. "We will administer the forfeits one person at a
time." Julia perused a list of names, paused for dramatic effect, then said,
"Bring Kathleen O'Leary to the stage."
Two handlers took Kathleen, one on each arm up the steps to the stage. She
tossed her head defiantly, but fear showed in her eyes.
"Kathleen, you were captured, fair and square. You will therefore pay the
penalty proscribed by the rules of this contest. You must now draw from this
bowl to determine your fate. There are 8 slips of paper in here. Each one has an
implement and a number. Draw now."
Kathleen took a deep breath and drew a slip out. She handed it to Julia.
Julia read it aloud: "Kathleen will be fastened to the frame and will receive 20
lashes with the martinet." To the attendants she said, "Prepare her."
Kathleen's hands flew to her mouth and her knees buckled slightly at this news.
Her two attendants took her elbows and turning her around stripped off her cloak
revealing her in all her glorious nakedness. Her flaming red hair had been
styled in ringlets that fell well past her shoulders and her body had been
massaged with a scented oil to make her skin glisten.
Cindy watched breathlessly as they fastened Kathleen to the whipping frame. The
frame was like a tilted a-frame easal with a large padded crosspiece at hip
level. Her arms were stretched over her head, the manacles clipped to a hook. A
strap on each of the twin rails encircled each ankle. The bar in the middle
pushed her hips back slightly which had the effect of presenting her buttocks
prominently, back arched. There was not a sound as Julia picked the martinet
from its hook and flicked it a few times. She walked slowly to Kathleen's right,
planted her hips, and ran the strands of the whip through her fingers.
"Twenty lashes, Kathleen, are you ready?"
"Yes" said Kathleen in a small voice.
To a staffer Julia said, "Please keep count." The staffer nodded and Julia drew
back her arm. There was dead silence as the lash fell with a whishhh....smack!
right across the plumpest part of Kathleen's seat. Her cheeks wobbled and her
body jerked. She emitted a cry.
"Aiii...!"
"One", intoned the staffer.
Swish...crack! "Two"
"Ahhhh....oh!" whimpered Kathleen. The lashes felt like hot wires laid across
her buns.
Julia whipped her soundly, drawing the martinet through her fingers then
whipping it smartly across Kathleen's quivering seat. Sometimes the thongs
splayed out, sometimes they remained concentrated in a band. The scene was a
sexy replica of the whipping of a petty thief in 17th century Europe. The
spectators gawked and yelled encouragement as the tails of the lash rebounded
off of Kathleen's pertly presented bottomcheeks. Kathleen tried wriggling her
fanny to alleviate the pain, a spectacle that looked more like a lover humping
her hips in time to the whipping. The whip continued to fall at intervals of 10
to 15 seconds. In between strokes Kathleen writhed, moaning.
When the 20th lash had been given, Julia motioned for the attendants to release
her. When the manacles had been removed, she stood for a moment rubbing her
chastised rear amid cheers and applause for the thorough job Julia had done and
for Kath's apparant courage. An attendant brought a cloak and she was led from
the stage.
"Kathleen took that very well. She will now be allowed to dress and do whatever
she wishes. I should add that a tradition here with our hunt is that anyone who
has endured a forfeit shall not be denied any request made of another. So if you
are invited to give comfort, know that it would be poor form to refuse."
Looking again at her list, Julia announced, "Please bring Dottie Nelson
forward."
"No, no, not me. Not yet. Oh please," wailed a shocked Dottie. "I'm not ready
for this. Please, someone else?"
But her two attendants were right there and, taking one arm each, they marched a
reluctant Dottie up the steps to an accompaniment of cheers and whistles.
When the din had quieted, Julia spoke: "You have to draw now Dottie, there is no
getting out of this." Dottie, realizing that there was no way out, reached in
with a trembling hand and drew a slip. Julia took it and announced, "The
whipping post--13 lashes with the single thong whip."
Dottie gave an anguished cry. Her handlers immediately tore off her cloak,
leaving her stark naked. Before she could react, they hustled her over to the
post. Fastening her manacles to a hook above her head, they fastened cuffs to
her feet at the bottom. A strap went around her back and another strap was
secured just above the knees. The final result was a voluptuous picture. Dottie
had a small waist but a big ass which was typical of a showgirl's figure. The
placement of the straps made her behind stick out as if inviting the whip.
Julia uncoiled the whip and stood a few feet back. She flicked it back and forth
a few times. "Are you ready Dottie?" She asked.
Dottie wailed, "Nooo.....please no."
"Dottie, you will receive your 13 lashes ready or not. Now here they come."
Julia flicked her arm back her wrist action splaying the whip over her head and
behind her. The tip of the whip smacked down across Dotties behind with a loud
crack, leaving a vivid red weal across the center of her cheeks. Dottie gave a
loud screech at the fiery line of pain that had been painted across her ass. Her
behind jiggled at impact. Julia recoiled the whip and paced the floor of the
stage. Dottie made little mewling sounds. After 20 seconds or so Julia uncoiled
and readied the whip once again.
She's whipping her slowly so that the pain of each one sinks in before she gets
another, thought Cindy.
Swishhh....crack! Another lash painted a second stripe just below the first.
Another bleating cry was emitted by Dottie. The whipping continued slowly. For
the next few minutes the only sounds in the room were the whish...crack! of the
whip and Dottie's desperate yelps. Julia, taking her time, made every lash fully
felt before delivering another. Dottie's cries grew more frantic. She tried to
wriggle her fanny but all she could do was flex and relax the quivering mounds
as they were kissed by the whip. The crowd seemed transfixed as Julia
administered a very sound whipping to Dottie's nude buttocks and upper thighs.
When she had finished, Dottie was sobbing and begging to be let down.
Dottie was led away, supported on the arms of her attendants. Cindy's mouth was
dry, butterflies were in her stomach--but still her sex was wet. Who was next?
There was silence for a moment as Julia looked at the list, then read the name.
"Cindy Morgan."
Cindy gasped. It was her turn to be stripped and whipped. Immediately she felt
an attendant at each arm, escorting her up the dreaded steps to the stage.
Thankfully she couldn't see because of the stage lighting which illuminated her
and cloaked the spectators in darkness. On stage she was presented with a bowl
and Julia said,
"Cindy Morgan, you were fairly captured, so you must now draw to determine your
forfeit."
Cindy gulped and reached in. Julia took the slip from her hand and read:
"The birch--36 strokes." Under her breath she whispered, "Sorry honey but I'm
going to have to whip you now. Be brave."
One attendant took her hands while another unloosed the cloak. She felt it slide
from her shoulders. She was now naked. They took her wrist restraints off and
led her to the pillory. When the yoke was lifted she nervously bent over,
placing her head and hands in the cutouts. Then she felt the yoke replaced. She
was locked in, her nude bottom pointed at the spectators. She looked up and to
her horror saw that they had placed a mirror a the rear of the stage. The
watching crowd could see her face as well as her rear. In her bent over posture
she felt as vulnerable as she had ever felt in her life.
In the mirror she could see Julia pick up the rod, a bundle of synthetic
switches bound by a blue ribbon. Julia swished it, making a whining sound. Cindy
saw Julia move behind her. She felt the switches being pressed against her rear,
and heard Julia say, "Thirty-six with the birch. Are you ready, Cindy?"
Cindy heard herself say: "Yes, ma'am. Oh, please not too hard...."
"But they need to be hard, Cindy, or else it would not be a true penalty. Now
relax your bottom cheeks."
Cindy realized that she had tensed up. She forced herself to relax and at that
point there was a Swisshhh....thwack! and she felt a burning sensation as the
first stroke landed. Ow...ow...ow, she said to herself. It stung like a thousand
bees. Swisshhh....thwack! Again the rod kissed her seat. Ooooh, she thought. It
stings! Swisshhh.....thwack! Swissshhhh...thwack! Huishhh! Huisshhh! Julia began
a methodical application of the birch rod to Cindy's quivering seat, each lick
causing little ripples in the fatty rotundities and making Cindy jerk her body
in reaction to the strokes. She could not help but cry out.
Swisss! "Ow!" Swissh! "Ouch!" Swisshh...crack! "Yeouch!"
So this was a birching! she thought. It burns! It stings so! She wiggled her
hips as much as the pillory permitted but the birch continued to deliver its
kiss of fire to her tender behind in a steady rhythm. In a haze of pain Cindy
could hear the count...15...16...17....
She suddenly became aware of the hardening of her nipples and moisture in her
sex. Was this the drug? Now each burning stroke also stoked a fire in her pussy.
She writhed over the padded bar holding up her hips, keeping her bottom nicely
presented for the rod. In the mirror she could see Julia raise and reraise her
arm. She would see the arm disappear from view as it came down and delivered
another stroke. Her bottomcheeks danced, jiggling lasciviously with each
huissshhh....swack! of the birch.
Her sex was now jolted with each hissing smack of the rod and arousal began to
compete with the stinging in her behind. She started to jerkactually thrust her
hips back to receive the next burning kiss and her cries turned to moans.
For the watchers Cindy's whipping was the most exciting yet. Her writhing under
the rod had the unmistakable signs of sweaty arousal. The men were transfixed on
the sight of her pert buns wobbling with each lick, and the women imagined
themselves squeezing and relaxing their hind cheeks while thrusting their vulvas
against the crossbar in simulation of a lover's stroking with a rod of an
altogether different sort.
Julia sensed what was happening with Cindy and synchronized the whipping to
Cindy's writhings. The cute fanny jiggling under her punishing hand was having
an effect on Julia too. Julia slowed her tempo for the last six, determined to
make them memorable.
Huisshh....swack! "31," intoned the staffer
"Ohhh....!"
SWishhh.....whack! "32"
"Ahhhh...!" Moaned Cindy, waggling her hips.
Whissshhh.....swick! "33"
"Oh...oh!" Her behind was on fire, she thought.
Swish....thwack! "34"
Another blazing stroke where her seat was the most plump made her squeal.
"Yeoww!" That one really stung!
Swishhh....swick! "35"
"Owwww..."
"Last one Cindy," said Julia softly, "Then it's all over."
Swissshhh....thwack! "36"
"Oh...oh...ohhh!" Wailed Cindy in a mixed swelter of pain and lust. God, her
fanny was burning hot and her sex was too!
They unhooked the yoke and lifted it, permitting her to rise. Julia, still
holding the birch in her right hand, pulled Cindy to her with her left and
kissed her gently. Cindy hugged her in return as the spectators broke into loud
applause, cheers and whistles.
The attendants brought her cloak and led her down the steps. Mark was waiting.
Seeing him, Cindy fell into his arms.
"Mark, Mark, oh my God," said Cindy hugging him.
"Shhh...Cindy it's ok. Let's get you to my room. I've got some of this salve
stuff." Mark could feel her hard nipples pressed against his chest and the feel
of her soft curves under the thin cloak.
"Oh Mark, it hurts but I'm so turned on...please now-let's go. I want you."
Mark hustled her to his room. Cindy stretched out on the bed, fanny up, while
Mark rubbed the special cream into her burning nates. As the fire in her hiney
began to subside, the fire in her pussy gathered momentum. Mark slipped his hand
between her legs feeling her wetness. In turn, Cindy felt for his hard cock and
stroked it. He disengaged and knelt behind her, licking her clitoris with long
even strokes of his tongue while she shivered with pleasure. When she felt
herself on the verge of cumming, she rose and knelt before him as he sat on the
bed and took his hardness into her warm mouth, sucking and tonguing the engorged
member until he too was ready to climax. She knelt on the bed again. When her
took her from behind it was like a knife through butter. He felt the heat from
her behind as he rode her, thrusting, back, forward, in and out again and again.
Mark kept at it for several minutes, their bodies bumping in a frenzied dance of
lust. Through at least one climax experienced by Cindy, Mark pumped his hips
like a piledriver. By the time Mark came in a blinding flood of pleasure, Cindy
had climaxed again, her contractions squeezing Mark's penis making it impossible
to delay his own orgasm.
They made love all night, though with somewhat less ferocity the second and
third times.
Meanwhile, the spectacle in the gallery continued........
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