"We've got to have a council of war tonight," Ardith Fenwick declared, a worried look knitting her thick dark-brown brows.
Her younger sister Joan, a tall, slim honey-haired blonde, giggled as she made a face in the mirror so as to apply lipstick just the way she wanted it. "For heaven's sake, now what's wrong, Ardie honey?" she asked, eyeing her sister from the latter's reflection in the big dresser mirror. Ardith was sitting on the bed buffing her nails and looking very upset indeed.
"I'll tell you exactly what's wrong, Joan Fenwick, if you haven't already found out for yourself. Dad's going to get married again, that's what."
"No! You're joking, Ardie!" Joan whirled, her green silk skirt swirling about sleek, supple thighs sheathed in the sheerest of flesh-hued nylons. Hands on hips, her pretty oval-shaped face taut with anxiety at this unexpected news, she stared incredulously at her older sister.
Ardith Fenwick shook her head. "I only wish I were, Joanie, I only wish I were. But ever since Dad met that slinky Mavis Hausten, he's been acting like a kid with a brand-new toy, that's what. It's really serious, believe you me."
"But how do you know Dad's going to marry her? I haven't even met her," Joan protested.
"No, but I have. When I was downtown at Dad's bank last Thursday, to hit him for my allowance in advance so I could buy that cute blue frock at Marley's, there was this sexy brunette in there sitting in his office, her legs crossed, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. And then she ups and says so sweet and with that Cheshire-cat smile of hers, 'Is this one of your dear girls, Arthur darling?' I tell you, Joanie, I could have gone right through the floor. You can bet it's serious, all right. You know what? Dad just grinned and turned awfully red and looked foolish. Now how can a man his age and with his brains and money fall for a line from a mercenary-minded divorcee like that? It's plain to see all she wants is his money. The way she looked at me, with that sticky smile of hers, I knew she didn't give a damn about Dad's dear girls, as she puts it."
Ardith Fenwick was quite wrong about Mavis Hausten's motive for marrying her father. But even sophisticated young Ardith could hardly have foreseen just how wrong she was....
CHAPTER TWO
At the very moment that Ardith Fenwick was telling her sister of the need for a family get-together to do battle against the menace of their father's possible marriage to a svelte brunette divorcee, the object of Ardith's apprehension was sitting in a booth at Marco's, the most fashionable restaurant in Compton. Her silk sheathed knees were brushing Arthur Fenwick's knees as if by accident more than once throughout the lengthy gourmet repast he had ordered for them both.
If Ardith had known that this dinner was being staged as a celebration of her father's engagement to this very woman whom she had immediately detested, she would doubtless have been even more anxiety-stricken than she was presently.
Arthur Fenwick, at forty-six, was a definite catch for any woman. First of all, he was vice-president of the Compton National Bank & Trust Company at a salary of $28,000 a year. His shrewdness in investments had netted his bank a fortune, and he had backed up his own judgment with his own savings and made an excellent killing in the market. As a result, his three daughters already had trust funds assuring their college education when the proper time came.
As a matter-of-fact, Ardith, the eldest, was already in her second year at Lake Park College for Girls, Joan was being graduated next month from Compton High, and fifteen-year-old Phyllis, the youngest, and in some ways prettiest of all, was in her freshman year at the same high school.
Athletic of build, his brown hair only graying, his affable blue eyes and smiling mouth decidedly attractive to the opposite sex, Arthur Fenwick had been a widower for the past decade, ever since his beloved wife, Clara, who had gone on a hiking trip with him and Ardith (while leaving Joan and Phyllis in the care of a governess), had been bitten by a rattlesnake and succumbed before medical aid could be given her. In Ardith's estimation, Mavis Hausten, the divorcee now seated so intimately across the table from her father, was just as deadly as that snake! Ardith remembered her mother, with sorrowful affection: Clara Fenwick had been gentle, easygoing, a real pal without any affectation or airs of any kind, eager to share fun and sorrow with equanimity and good fellowship. But as for Mavis Hausten-
"I can hardly believe it, dearest Arthur," Mavis sighed, looking intently at her betrothed husband-to-be with her gray-green eyes very wide and soft and glowingly eloquent of the bliss she would accord him in the future, "and I'm going to be your wife. I think I'm the luckiest woman alive. And to have you manage my investments and estate, why, it's like having a private banker all one's own as well as a thrilling lover and mate."
With this hypocritical little speech, Mavis reached her slim, gloved hand under the table, and Arthur, beaming fatuously, reached to meet it with his own and gave it a loving squeeze. He quivered with enervation as again he felt the now insistent pressure of her knee. He felt his prick beginning to stiffen. And he didn't feel guilty about it, not at all. My God, he'd been continent for ten long years now, ever since Clara had died so tragically. And what a wonderful love affair they'd had during their marriage, which had given them three wonderful girls!
Why, he told himself with firm conviction, shouldn't he have the right to remarry if he wanted to? There were a lot of his friends who, though even still married, were cheating on the side and had mistresses. By God, he hadn't had even a single good fuck since Clara's death, not once! He'd even turned down that cute Leslie Douglas' invitation to spend a weekend with her at Lake Arrowhead, when her husband had gone off to New York for two weeks. And everybody knew that Leslie, beautiful as she was, was one of the easiest lays in all of Compton. He'd certainly wanted her, with that hourglass figure of hers and that pale white skin. But because of his reputation and for the sake of the girls, he'd fought the temptation nobly, just like the Spartan boy who had bitten off his tongue to keep from crying out because he was hiding a fox under his tunic and it was gnawing away at his vitals and it was against the Spartan code to show pain.
But now his ten years of continence were about to end in delicious happiness. And it wasn't as if he were being unfaithful to Clara, not the least little bit of it. He was mature now, his girls were just about grown up, and he owned himself some happiness. Their future had been taken care of, he'd been a good father, and there wasn't any law against a man's getting married. After all, hadn't Saint Paul said that it was far better to marry than to burn? Mavis Hausten had told him all about herself in the short three weeks that he had known her. She had come to the bank originally to inquire about safe industrial bonds. He'd found her overwhelmingly attractive and very witty and knowledgeable about the arts and politics and world topics, and he had managed to ask her to dinner, all in the light of discussing her investments. On their second date, when he had escorted her home to her apartment, in a high-rent, newly erected high-rise near the downtown area of Compton, she'd thanked him profu-sively for his kindness and gallantry, and lightly brushed his lips with hers in a kind of accolade. From that time forth, Arthur Fenwick was, to use the vernacular, "hooked."
But the handsome mature banker would have bitterly resented such a slang term about his sincere desire for Mavis Hausten. She'd been very frank with him, told him all about herself. She was thirty-five, had been divorced three years from one Ben Hausten, sportsman, polo player and the profligate legatee of his father's export business, which he had succeeded in running nearly into bankruptcy with his lavish spending on wine, women and song. Mavis had won a divorce on the grounds of mental cruelty in Reno, and had been awarded a handsome settlement by his attorneys, since Ken had wanted to marry a brainless but very beddable eighteen-year-old Reno chorus girl.
Mavis Hausten was childless, but she had definite ideas about bringing children up.
Each time he met this exquisite houri, Arthur Fenwick became more and more enchanted. She was all any woman could be: sophisticated, affectionate, passionate (he sensed this from those wonderful eyes, those fervent, moist red lips, and those touches of her slim hand with which she whetted his appetite when they kissed goodnight). She was worldly, yet she enjoyed the simple life of the outdoors. Well, he'd been lonely enough these past ten years, faithful enough to Clara's memory, but this was different. Mavis would be a comfort in his old age-not that he was really ready to think of that yet. She'd made him feel like a new man. She had an air about her as if she were Lil-lith, Eve and Messalina all rolled into one delicious package.
CHAPTER THREE
"You must let me meet your girls, darling. I'm just wild at the thought of having a ready-made family all my own," Mavis Hausten gushed.
Arthur Fenwick drank in her loveliness, more conquered than he knew. To give her credit, Mavis was indeed delicious to behold. She was svelte and supple, with the proud carriage of a born dominatress. Her raven hair was coiled around the top of her proud head in an imposing braid that lent just a touch of severity and austerity to her oval-shaped face, and her large, widely spaced gray-green eyes were surmounted by thick brows and short lashes to intensify the imperious yet often amorously radiant lustre of those magnetic eyes.
Her nose was dainty and aquiline, with thin, sensuously flaring wings, and her mouth suggested arrogance and selfishness-yet because Arthur Fenwick was so blindly in love in this kind of rebirth and reawakening of his manhood, it had the hint and promise of voluptuous delights. But there were other signs which he couldn't see. That firm chin of hers hinted just a little too much of autocratic willfulness. Her slightly high-set cheekbones added still more to that indefinable allure which those born to rule and to demand and to humble others always possess. If he had listened word by word to her conversation and set himself apart, as detached as a critic, he would have discovered very quickly that Mavis Hausten was egoistic, opinionated, insincere. But the male in his mid-or late-forties reaches a change of life just as does the female, and often this takes the form of sudden irrational desire for a younger woman to prove his manhood as a final defi against the encroaching threat of old age and impotence. And so it was perfectly obvious that physical charms of Mavis Hausten made her intensively seductive to this still virile widower. He had only to stare at her boldly pear-shaped titties, the lithe slenderness of her incurving waist, the flare of her sleek hips and the undulatingly quivering long thighs, long svelte calves and chiseled ankles whose perfection was accentuated by the spike-heeled glossy black kid pumps which were her favorite footgear.
By preference, Mavis always wore black kid gloves, which reached to the elbow. And she wore also a jasmine-scented perfume which never failed to intoxicate him.
"I know my girls will love you as I do, Mavis darling," he allowed.
The brunette's lips curved in a mocking little smile. "Hardly, darling. After all, they're girls, and you're a man. So of course they won't love me quite the same way-but what I'm really afraid of is that they may resent me because I'm taking their mother's place."
"Nonsense! Of course it's true they missed Clara-Joan and Ardith most of all, for Phyllis was only five when poor Clara had that tragic accident on our hiking trip. But by now they've all gone to school, I've given them every advantage, and-."
"I know you have, you generous darling!" Mavis sweetly broke in, "and I just adore the ring you gave me, you've such exquisite taste-for a man." The faint hesitation of her voice before she pronounced the last three disparaging words would have given a more discerning suitor pause. But by now Arthur Fenwick was so infatuated that he would have agreed if she had told him that black was white and that two times two make five.
"Tell me, sweetheart," she pursued as they finished their dessert and coffee, and the waiter set down a B & B for her and a twenty-year-old Courvoisier brandy for him, "I know it's been difficult for you, not having a mother for the girls all these years. Oh, I didn't mean that the heartless way it must sound. But I was thinking of their behavior, the discipline they've had."
"Oh, they're good girls, not a mean bone in their bodies, Mavis darling! You'll be wild about them, I know you will. Ardith-she's the oldest at nineteen-sees to it that everybody pitches in with the household chores."
"Good, but I rather think a servant would help a lot, so the girls would have more time for studies and discussions with their parents.
"I have a wonderful maid who's been with me for seven years. Her name is Inez. She's just marvelous when it comes to housekeeping and cooking. What would you think if I brought her along to stay with us, as my kind of dowry, shall we say? She'd take lots of the load of domestic chores off your girls.
"That's not a bad idea, sweetheart. You think of everything," Arthur Fenwick said fondly, as he stared into her lustrous eyes.
"Well, not quite, but just give me time," Mavis Hausten retorted as her smile deepened.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mavis Hausten let herself into the apartment with her key, took off her coat and pretty turban, and admitted the piercing whistle of a man.
A black-haired, olive-skinned woman of about thirty immediately entered the living room. It was Inez Corduba, the maid to whom Mavis had referred a little earlier this evening in her tete-a-tete with her fiance Arthur Fenwick.
Inez Corduba was of Castilian descent, perhaps on inch taller than her mistress. Her glossy jet-black hair was worn in an imposing pompadour with a comb at the back of the head. Her extremely slim waist flared into ripe, full hips and thighs, and she had round, narrowly set titties. Her arms and legs were magnificently muscled. But her dark brown eyes were cold and hard, and her ripe mouth with its upper lip being fuller than its red mate, curved into a sneering smile more often than not.
Mavis Hausten had been quite correct in telling Arthur Fenwick that Inez had been with her for seven years. But the services which Inez performed for her mistress were somewhat more intimate than those usually in vogue between employer and domestic. For Mavis Hausten was a switch hitter, and while she enjoyed being fucked by a virile male, she derived equal amcrous gratification in the arms of an expert and passionate female.
One of the reasons for the divorce, to be exact, was that Ken Hausten had tried early in the mariage, to get into Inez's room. She had reported this to Mavis, and Mavis had chewed him out about it on more than one occasion. But Ken had kept trying, and finally one night, when Mavis hadn't been home, and Ken had had just a little too much to drink, he had almost raped the beautiful Castilian. He hadn't got off scot-free, however. Inez had knead him in the groin and scratched his face so deeply that he had had to go to a doctor. For Inez was a confirmed Lesbian and had no use whatsoever for men.
"How goes it, querida?" Inez purred as she came forward, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Wonderfully, Inez dear. Would you draw a warm bath for me? I'm exhausted. I tell you, darling, the verbal fencing with a silly man who thinks he's a great lover is beginning to get on my nerves."
"But it's well worth it, isn't it, querida?"
"Of course it is. He's very rich. And after all, he's made me a few dollars by investing some of the money Ken settled on me. But I feel lost without a man. A man I can dominate, naturally."
Inez made a face and shrugged her shoulders. "That is the one thing we do not have in common, my darling mistress. You know that I cannot bear the thought of a man putting his hand on me. But of course I don't quarrel with you, querida. This is your nature. So long as you save for me the secret moments of your greatest passion, I am well content."
"You know that you can please me more than most men ever dreamed of, Inez," Mavis said huskily as her hand slipped around to squeeze Inez's full resilient buttocks through the short black satin skirt. "I'll show you very soon. Go draw my bath, that's a darling. Then I'll tell you all about dinner tonight. We're engaged, you know, and he wants to get married in two weeks."
"Wonderful! And then those three girls of his. You'll be their mother, querida."
"Of course. And you will be their disciplinarian.
The two of us will teach those empty-headed little fools what it's like to obey. He has probably spoiled them rotten, and their mother, who died ten years ago, was much too nice to them."
"It will be wonderful to use the whip again, querida Mavis."
"You mustn't speak of that yet. It's much too early. First there's the marriage, then the honeymoon. Wait until you and I are safely installed in Arthur Fen-wick's fine house. Then there will be time enough for the awakening and the changing of the status quo. I can hardly wait to see the look of surprise on his girls' faces when they discover how I plan to discipline them when they're naughty, dear Inez. Give me a kiss quickly, and then draw my bath. I'm dying to love you. My pussy is so moist, it's all I could do to keep from making a fool of myself and asking Arthur Fenwick to take me home and fuck me."
"Please don't speak like that. You know it distresses me," Inez sighed, and her eyes widened with the shadow of anguish. Mavis Hausten laughed softly, and kissed her full on the mouth, inserting the tip of her tongue between the Castilian beauty's lips. Inez's fingers clutched her mistress' pear-titties, and the two women stood merged together, trembling violently with unslaked lust. Then at last Inez broke away with a little sound that was almost a sob, and hurried off to the bathroom....
CHAPTER FIVE
Inez Corduba hastened to run the bath for her adored mistress, and soon came back to announce that it was ready. Mavis walked into the bathroom, and there Inez began to undress her, till she had Mavis down to panties and garterbelt, hose and pumps. She knelt on the floor, her hands pressed against Mavis's bottomcheeks, and with a sigh of langourous desire and anticipation, she pressed her mouth against the prominent triangular mound of Mavis's cunt, so thickly fleeced that it could be seen through the gauzy panties. Mavis stood, her fists clenched, her head tilted back and her eyes closed, her magnificent naked titties rising and falling vehemently with the stimulation that was aroused in her being.
She had not told Arthur Fenwick what her real background was; all he knew was that she had been divorced from Ken Hausten and that he was sympathetic over the unjust treatment she had received from her first husband. Naturally she had colored the stories of Ken's infidelity and drinking in her favor.
But she was remembering now that background and also how she had met Inez Corduba, now that her cunny was thrilling and moistening to Inez's savoring and prolonged love-kiss. Born of a Portuguese engineer father and a beautiful Brazilian mother, Mavis had been remarkably precocious for her years. Her father had taken his beautiful young wife to Nogales in the States where his engineering firm had transferred him. There Mavis had been born and there both her parents had died in an automobile accident. At seventeen, Mavis became the protegee of a fabulously wealthy and much-traveled dowager who lived in semi-retirement in a magnificent mansion in the hills beyond Nogales.
The dowager detested men and believed that women were far superior. She taught this lesson to Mavis Mortadore, and her protegee learned it very well. Her patroness founded a school for the snobbish daughters of wealthy ranchers, and Mavis Mortadore became headmistress at the tender age of twenty-one. In this role, Mavis initiated disciplinary methods in keeping with her sponsor's interests as well as her own, and she quickly found out that she was born to be an imperatrix over those who were inferior and who therefore must kneel before her beauty and autocratic mind.
Mavis quickly developed an avid enthusiasm for and superb proficiency in compelling her pupils to submit to restraint and bondage, to gags and fetters and to spankings when they were not docile or had broken one of her many strict rules established for the proper conduct of young ladies.
A few years later, when the death of the wealthy dowager had left Mavis enough money to travel and seek her pleasure as she wished, she had visited Buenos Aires, where handsome, polo-playing Ken Hausten had been visiting for an international match. It was true that Ken Hausten had been a chaser and a drinker-but what Mavis did not tell Arthur Fenwick was that Ken had rebelled against his young wife's desire to dominate even him and make of him a male slave.
Midway through their marriage, Mavis experienced this discontent, and her jealousy over her husband's philandering had caused her to send for Inez Corduba, who had been a maid in the school at Nogales and at times had assisted her in binding some of the more recalcitrant pupils or compelling them to don the tight-sheathing corselets and body-tights which the pupils had to wear to obtain proper carriage and graceful poise.
Inez was indeed a Lesbian, but her desirability had made her a target for Ken Hausten's lusts. And what Mavis had not bothered to tell Arthur Fenwick, either, was that she had one night taunted Ken with the threat of making him her slave and having him lick Inez's feet, in the presence of her beautiful and sadistic companion. Inez had laughed at him, and he had sworn revenge. And that was why he had tried to rape Inez if only to prove his manhood.
* * *
"Wait, dear Inez," Mavis Hausten purred as she shuddered with voluptuous yearning. "Wait till after my bath, dear Inez. I want you too. Terribly."
"I really wish, querida, that you weren't going to marry again," Inez mourned as she slowly rose from her knees, and then impulsively bent her head, took one of Mavis's nipples between her sensual lips and sucked and nibbled at it lovingly. Mavis groaned and clutched the beautiful Spanish woman's neck with the tips of her slim fingers: "Oh, Inez! Please, you'll make me forget all about my bath, you know you will when you do that! And you know also why I must marry. We've spent a great deal of money, my darling one, and we have to replenish it. And this silly banker who knows so much about money and who has already made us several thousand dollars in this short time, he will make us both very wealthy and very happy. And just think, Inez, his three daughters will one day be our slaves ... yes, take my panties down now, but you must wait until I come out of the tub, and then we shall love."
"Yes, querida. But it's only that when you will be lying with that man in bed, I shall be in my room all alone thinking of what it would be like to hold you next to me," Inez sighed as she now glided down the svelte brunette's panties, and then lifted each foot in turn and drew them off the lovely long legs. Her eyes glistened at the sight of the thick black curls covering Mavis's cunthole, and the sheen of that warm skin, still that of a young girl's despite Mavis's mature age, made her lick her lips in feline anticipation.
Mavis laughed at her gently, patted her cheek: "Don't look so sad, my darling one. You know that there are things between us which no man could ever give me. I will make it up to you when those three girls begin their reeducation. It will be just like old times, just as in Nogales. Do you remember that twenty-year-old debutante, Debra Paxton? The one with the long red hair that fell almost to her hips, the heiress who was too good to be told by a servant that she must wear her high-heel pumps at certain times of day?"
"I shall never forget that one," Inez declared as she now unfastened the garterbelt, then almost reverently drew off each filmy stocking sheath, kissing her mistress's toes as she lifted each dainty foot to her mouth. "She threatened to complain to her doddering old uncle, who was too far gone to know what was happening to her. But we both taught her obedience, didn't we, querida?"
"That we did, Inez. As I recall, I tied her down over a high footstool, with her dress and slip pulled up, and we left her there for several hours with all the other girls to pass by and see and giggle at her, till she finally begged us to take down her panties and thrash her well for her impertinence. And you made her count each of the fifty spanks you applied with your bare hand. And then an hour later I finished her off with my riding crop. Then she had to stand on the footstool in the highest-heeled pair of pumps we could find, for half an hour without penalty of budging, or else we told her she should be strung up by the thumbs in front of the entire school with a yardstick between her legs and then receive the birch rod over her insolent bare bottom and well up between those wriggling cheeks of hers! Oh, those were the good old days. But have good courage, Inez, very soon they will be restored again in the Fenwick household. I give you my promise."
"Oh, querida, I love you so! I am your devoted slave, your devoted servant always. And now, my beloved one, into the tub quickly so that I may soap your beautiful breasts and between your legs where that sweet soft hot flower of passion grows," Inez was lyrical as she aided her svelte naked mistress into the tub....
After the bath, the wall-length mirror opposite the tub reflected the dazzlingly naked body of Mavis Hausten, nee Mortadore, as she stood being toweled by voluptuous Inez. Inez had removed all her clothes except her sandals, and her ripe round titties, with their dark brownish-coral aureolae and the pouting, swollen, dark coral nipples quivering with every breath, finally dropped the towel and pressed her naked body ecstatically against that of the svelte brunette. Their cunt-hairs merged, and Inez's hands squeezed Mavis's sinuous, resilient naked bottom-cheeks as she began slowly and lasciviously to rub her cunt back and forth. Little whimpering sobs filled the tiled and mirrored bathroom as the two naked and perverse beauties took their joy of each other. And in their final cry of simultaneous climax, there was the knell of doom for the harmonious domesticity which Arthur Fenwick's three lovely daughters had until this moment enjoyed....
CHAPTER SIX
Two weeks later Arthur Fenwick and Mavis Hausten were married and went to Colorado Springs for their honeymoon. Arthur Fenwick was enraptured by his lovely wife's choice of that honeymoon site, for she had proposed that since they both liked outdoor sports, what could be more delightful than to ride horseback through that magnificent country, to broil steak on a skillet over a fire in the evening, and then to make their bed in a soft grassy knoll where they could fuse their quivering bodies together under the stars.
Meanwhile, Inez Corduba, again at Mavis's suggestion, moved into the comfortable ivy-covered two-story brick house as housekeeper to the three girls while the honeymoon progressed, and Ardith, Joan and Phyllis took an immediate dislike to her.
Inez's dark-brown eyes showed little warmth as she went about her tasks, which she performed efficiently and silently, having little to say to the three Fenwick girls. But at night, in her room near the kitchen on the first floor, she took a little notebook out of her dresser and made extensive notes.
On the wedding night, after they had come back from an excellent dinner in the hotel restaurant which was open-air and looked out on the magnificent mountain view which seemed so close and yet which was nearly fifty miles away, Mavis murmured to her husband, "Arthur dearest, I have a surprise for you. Now you let me go in ahead to our room and I'll get ready. Come to me in about twenty minutes, my darling.
Smoke a cigar-I love the good male scent of fine tobacco. I promise you won't regret your waiting."
And when he entered, Mavis emerged from her separate adjoining room-which she had playfully begged her husband to engage for this honeymoon-clad not in the traditional bridal nightie, but in a costume that made him tremble and regard her with stupefaction and a troubling desire. For it was the costume of a dominatress which Mavis Fenwick had chosen for her first display of her most intimate charms to her new consort ... a one-piece corselet of gleaming black kid, tightly cinched at the waist to intensify the suppleness of that sleek juncture from which her hips so agilely began, gusseting her between the legs, and, to complete the eye-capturing unity of that ensemble, spike-heeled black kid boots with pointed toes, whose skintight cuirass molded out the graceful, elegantly muscled, nervous sinuousity of calves and thighs till the tops of those boots seemed to join and to be the very part of the corselet itself .Besides this, she had put on shoulder length black kid gloves which made her arms glisten with a thousand mirroring reflections at the slightest movement. Her head regally high, her smile imperious, she stood before him, faceted with the glistening play of light upon her black-enveloped loveliness.
"Mavis-my God-you-you're bewitching!" Arthur Fenwick breathed hoarsely, his eyes wide and glowing with approbation.
"Do you like this, really, darling?"
"Oh yes! I-I've never seen anything like it before, Mavis. How beautiful you are, like a queen!"
"No, not a queen, darling, a trainer in discipline and in servitude. But in a way, perhaps you are right, after all. It is imperious, isn't it?"
Unsophisticated in the perverse nuances of sex as he was, despite his tremendous virility, Arthur Fenwick was quite undone. He licked his lips and stared at her gleaming body. "Train me then, my darling Mavis, my lovely wife," he said thickly.
She came to him slowly, smiling triumphantly, and she put her arms, those lustrous, supple, cool kid-sheathed arms, about him. Their lips met, and a shudder surged through his being. He felt himself embraced not by mortal woman, but by the divinity of an imperatrix, a goddess of unearthly aptitudes and talents, of radiant skills and illusory enchantments ... and he succumbed to the smell of kid, to the cuirass of gloves and boots and corselet which withheld her from him and yet promised more than she would give.
Her tongue darted between his lips, a fiery stimulus, making him shudder and groan as he felt his prick harden against the fly of his pajama trousers. Her gloved hand reached down to squeeze the tip of his cock, and the lacerating torment was a caress such as he had never known from any woman.
"But I will train you, my darling husband," she whispered, her tongue flicking into his ear. "Kneel down, and take hold of the silver zipper at the crotch of my corselet."
He did as bidden, transfigured and altered by the dominating aura of fetishistic adoration which she had inspired. It was as if he were encountering a woman for the first time, for though he had been a robust and zealous lover to his lovely gentle wife Clara, he was not prepared for the spectacular and crafty erotic indoctrination which Mavis brought to their wedding night.
With trembling fingers he pulled down the little silver zipper at the crotch of the gusseting corselet, and he perceived the thick black curls which shielded her amorous core. "Kiss it, lover," she hissed, and her gloved fingers sank into his shoulders, until he winced with pain. But that pain was a sweet torment and it added to his lust as, blindly, impulsively, he pressed his lips to the perfumed silky curls of his wife's pussy and applied a long and passionate kiss.
"My darling," she purred, "now take off your pajamas and love me, love your wife."
He husked himself of his pajamas and was naked, his prick massive and swollen with its longing. Once again her slim gloved ringers caressed his organ and his balls, making him shudder and groan aloud and set his teeth at the incredibly tactual sensuality of the touch of cool and supple and polished kid, grazing and brushing and titillating him as he had never known till now a woman's touch could so rouse and so inspire. And then at last she guided his aching prick towards the citadel of her cunt, and he felt his meatus slip in between the soft moist pouting lips of her vulva, and then she hissed, "Take me, pierce me, dig into me, love me!" as her gloved fingers dug into the back of his neck.
With a hoarse cry, Arthur Fenwick thrust forward, feeling the sweet soft tightness of his wife's cunt-sheath, and also against his naked flesh the pressure of that kid-sheathed svelte body, dominating and compelling him to abandoning all his wish for the male initiative on this night of nuptial nights....
Therafter, every night for the next two weeks, Mavis appeared before him always in this garb, adding only to it a slim leather riding crop, explaining to him what discipline and servitude consisted of. In this wise, she made him kiss not only her hands and feet but also the disdainfully extended riding crop and her gloved hand, till, on his knees, he did homage to that symbol of her feminine puissance.
Not that she abstained from the normal delight that bride accords to husband. But his connubial rights of fucking were procured by him only after he had paid homage to the sacred kid, to the gloves, the boots, the corselet, the gleaming riding crop and even felt the enslaving kiss of that punitive implement upon his tantalized and yet ecstatically naked flesh!
And gradually, in their last week of conjugal togetherness, Mavis slyly and skillfully imparted to his now facilely impressed mind that his three motherless daughters were equally in need of discipline to guarantee their proper conduct in school as in later life.
By the time they had flown back to Compton, she had exacted a promise from Arthur Fenwick, now hopelessly in love with her and agreeing in advance to all she wished, that he would acquiesce to her new regimen which would bring Ardith, Joan and Phyllis definitely under her sway not only with all the authority of a mother, but also with the approval of their father to whatever lexicon of learning she would demand of them in the days ahead!
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Querida Mavis, was the honeymoon happy for you?" sultry Inez Corduba devotedly asked her beautiful and despotic employer-lover in the latter's bedroom, which Mavis had installed on the second floor of the Fenwick house.
"Very much, my darling," the brunette dominatress purred. "Arthur is such a child in matters of love. Yes, he's strong and handsome, but very unworldly. He doesn't know how a woman like myself can take the upper hand. Now this evening, we're going to begin the training of his daughters. I know that both of us are looking forward to it. But let us start with Ardith. She's the oldest, the most spoiled and self-willed, and she hates me. I can sense it as well as I can see it."
"Oh, she does indeed, querida Mavis," Inez laughed cajolingly, as she knelt at her mistress's feet and, with a soft felt cloth, polished the gleaming boots of the dominatress till she could see her own sensual features clearly reflected back to her along their gleaming surfaces.
"You've made notes about the girls as I've asked you to, my dear one?" Mavis pursued.
"Of a certainty, my beloved Mavis! All three of the girls have been guilty of improper remarks which slandered you. The youngest one, that stupid Phyllis who gives herself such airs, treated me like a servant, ordering me about and even telling me to clean her shoes. Joan came home twice after midnight from a date with her-how do you say it-ah yes, her novio-her boyfriend. She thought I had gone to bed hours before."
"You've done very well, Inez. I'm very pleased with you."
"Yes, tonight is indeed a good time," Inez at last agreed after Mavis and she had shared a long and shuddering kiss of passion. "Joan has gone over to the house of a friend to study with her for an examination tomorrow, and Phyllis will be downtown with her father, who promised to take her to a movie she so much wished to see. That one! She is the naughtiest of all, the way she treats me as if I were a peon under her feet!"
"Of course you're right, dear Inez, as you always are. To think, too, that this is Thursday night and with school tomorrow, and Arthur is so foolish as to let his youngest daughter talk him into taking her to a movie, when she should be home studying and going to bed at an early hour. It works out very well, though. That is why we shall start with Ardith. The road is clear. Once I have made her bow her haughty, stubborn head, the other two will be very easy. They look up to her because she's nineteen. She thinks herself a woman already. She will find out tonight what a naughty little girl she really is, eh, my dearest Inez?"
For an answer, the Castilian brunette uttered a choking little sigh and put her lips to one of the pouting nipples of Mavis's swelling titties through the thin material of Mavis's dress and bra, for it was an unusually warm day and Arthur Fenwick's wife had worn no slip.
* * *
During the honeymoon, and while the girls had been in school, Inez had further carried out her mistress's wishes quite apart from taking exhaustive notes on the conduct of the three step-daughters.
After the first week of the honeymoon, delivery trucks had stopped in front of the Fenwick house, and workmen had come in during the day while the girls were away at school to install certain pieces of apparatus which Mavis had kept in storage, waiting for just such an opportunity as this to use them once again. They had been part of the equipment of disciplinary training which she had put in vogue at the private school at Nogales. Inez supervised their installation, and the men who had worked in the comfortable basement of the Fenwick house had been particularly trustworthy and selected by Mavis in a personal interview preceding the formal date of her marriage to Arthur Fenwick. They had also been handsomely paid for their discretion; moreover, they assumed that the devices they were installing were for exercise and gymnastic purposes ... and so in a most unusual way, they were.
Inez cooked supper for Arthur Fenwick, his three daughters and her mistress. She was a superb cook, and she had been assistant to the cook in the private school at Nogales besides serving Mavis as an assistant in the disciplining of rebellious and naughty pupils. After Joan had left to go to her friend's house, Arthur Fenwick and lovely young Phyllis left to attend the movie, and Ardith was alone in the house with Inez and her step-mother. All through dinner, Mavis had regarded the lovely mature brunette under lowered lashes. Ardith's step-mother had put on a tight-fitting black satin dress, with a slashed skirt that exposed the elegant and provocative glimpse of one supple thigh sheathed in gauzy black nylon. But the tightness of that dress could be attributed in good part to the skin-molding thin black leather corselet which was her only undergarment under the dress, a dress specially designed for her to match the cut of the corselet.
Ardith Fenwick at nineteen was intensely lovely, in a wholesome, sweet though somewhat spirited way. Her wavy brown hair hung in a flowing cascade to her shoulderblades, for her boyfriend preferred it that way. Her face was heart-shaped, but her mouth was firm and full of character to go with her saucy snub nose and clear dark-blue eyes set widely apart under thick, resolute brows. Her skin was flawlessly creamy, freckled at legs and arms and shoulders from the sun, and her body slender but with surprising curves at bosom and hip. Ardith was very fond of tennis, and her leg and arm muscles indicated a wiryness which this sport had procured.
Since this was a study night for her and she had no date with her steady boyfriend, Ardith had dressed casually in a tight white woolen sweater with a college letter from the tennis team, a brown skirt, dainty yellow half-socks and opentoe sandals with low heels. Her gracefully slim calves were sun tanned, her skin warm and smooth and radiant with good health.
Artfully, Mavis Fenwick had asked her new stepdaughter to remain at the dinner table for a little chat after Joan and Phyllis and her father had left the house, and Ardith had rather grudgingly obeyed, not without having made a wry face which both Inez and Mavis detected and over which they exchanged a conspiratorial glance of triumph. Inez now brought in a tray on which were placed a cup of coffee and a tall glass of milk which she sat down on the table. Ardith glanced up and made another face: "Milk! Mavis, you know I usually have coffee. Or at least, Inez does or should know. I've told her often enough. I'm a big girl, you know. I'll be Mrs. Bob Grantham in a few months more. Didn't I tell you? Last week, while you and Dad were on your honeymoon, Bob proposed to me and I accepted him."
"Until you are married, my dear, you are still our daughter, Arthur's and mine, and therefore still subject to the responsibility we have to uprear you," was Mavis's cool retort.
Ardith flushed. "Oh, come off it, Mavis! You and I are mature enough to know there's no love lost between us. You married Dad, and naturally I love him too and I want him to be happy. But that doesn't mean I'm going to kowtow to you just because you're my stepmother."
"I see," Mavis said with a silvery little laugh that was belied by the tightening of her jaws and the narrowing of her gray-green eyes. "But you know, you've used a very appropriate expression, my dear Ardith. You are going to kowtow to me, and sooner than you think. And I may add at this point that I'm not overly fond of having you call me by my first name."
"I certainly am not going to call you mother. But what did you mean by what you just said? And may I have coffee, please?"
"You may not. Starting tonight, young lady, you're going to acquire some much-needed training in good discipline and obedience."
"Now wait just a little minute!" Ardith angrily interposed, her lovely face flushing with indignation at the insolently condescending tone her stepmother had just used.
"No, you wait a minute, my dear. Your father has agreed that I'm to have full authority over all of you girls, which means punishment when it is deserved."
"Punishment?" Ardith echoed, then giggled. "Don't be ridiculous! You just don't punish girls our age these days, or aren't you hep to what's going on in the modern generation?"
Inez, who was standing at the side of the defiant young beauty, now suddenly reached out and slapped Ardith's cheek stingingly.
"Ohhhh! How dare you-you-you-you servant you!" Ardith cried. "Mavis, I've had enough of this business! Either you make Inez apologize for what she didif I had any sayso, I'd fire her right now-and stop hounding us girls just because you think you're going to take over, or I'll tell Dad when he gets home what kind of stuff you're trying to pull off!"
At this, the brunette rose in a blind fury of rebellion. Mavis contemplated her a moment without reply, then nodded. Instantly the Castilian woman seized the startled young girl, dragged her arms behind her back, and before Ardith, thus boldly taken by surprise, could defend herself, she found her wrists tightly corded. Seizing her by an earlobe, Inez Corduba applied her other hand in a contemptuous smack against Ardith's firm young bottom.
"Owww! You stop that! Let go of me! What's the meaning of this outrage? You'll-you'll pay for this, you-you-you-" Ardith sputtered.
"Snake?" Mavis broke in with a sensual smile of anticipation. "Oh yes, my dear, Inez had a little transcription of all the things you three girls have been saying about the two of us. Not only are you going to regret them, Ardith, but you're going to apologize for them and retract them, my dear. Inez, bring her along to the basement. Arturito was so nice, he said I had his permission to turn it into a recreation room. It is going to be exactly that, starting at once."
"Stop that! Ouch-let go of my ear-ohhhh!" Ardith cried. For Inez, maliciously pinching her captive's ear-lobe, had quickened Ardith's hesitance with another and still more vigorous smack of her free hand against the young beauty's resilient bottom.
"March, you stubborn one," Inez hissed, "or do you wish me to help you with some more good smacks? Eh? Like this-or perhaps this one too-" As she spoke, her hands collided thrice with Ardith's jouncy bottom.
"Owww! Cut that out! You've got no right-stop it-oh, my ear, my ear-all right, all right, stop hurting me-oh, you just wait, you two, till Dad gets home!" Ardith cried, tears of frustrated indignation and shame glistening in her dilated eyes.
"Indeed we will wait, my dear. And when your father does come home, you'll find that he'll endorse what I'm going to do with you while we're waiting for his return ... yes, and for your sister, Phyllis, who is in many ways more spoiled and insolent than you!" Mavis succinctly declared.
She nodded again, and Inez, with a gloating smile, shoved the helpless young beauty forward down the stairs to the basement. The new regimen of disciplinary education was to have its debut with Arthur Fen-wick's oldest and most beautiful daughter!
* * *
In the short time of that honeymoon, this old basement where once the girls had played as little children had now been converted into an expansive and very well-accoutred recreation room. As we have already mentioned, some of the objects decorating it were not exactly what one thinks of in connection with a playroom. For there was a padded-leather horse provided with straps and buckles standing in one corner. There were pulley ropes and trapeze bars dangling from the ceiling. There were parallel bars such as one finds in a gymnasium, with thick mats under them and leading to them. There was a long-low-wide wooden bench whose surface was padded with glossy black leather, very hard and harsh, and this too was equipped with buckling straps. In addition, there was a pingpong table which had several sets of strong hooks fixed into every side. One found also several solid wooden posts set into the freshly re-cemented portion of one side of this broad room, and these posts had hooks and rings fixed into them at various levels.
In another corner of the room was a rectangular oaken chest locked by a huge padlock. Inez Corduba wore a silver chain around her olive-skinned throat, and dangling between her breasts reposed the long key to this singular "treasure chest."
Mavis had further beguiled Arthur Fenwick by telling him that she insisted on paying for the remodeling of this basement as "my present to your lovely daughters, darling Arthur," and so her enamored husband had raised not the least objection to all this renovation. He lived only now for these magical hours when, in the privacy of the conjugal bedroom, his adored bride would parade before him in scintillating kid which molded every flawless, seductive, lithe curve of her voluptuous body, and when, attuned by the caresses of her gloved hands and of the lash (the lash which she knew so expertly how to inflict as a stimulus to passion!) he would pay blind homage, unswerving loyalty and adoring devotion to the doctrine of disciplinary domination which she had extended even over him!
* * *
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Wh-what are you going to-to do to me?" Ardith gasped, now really terrified as her eyes fell on the unexpected array of curious apparatuses about this room which Mavis had instructed the workmen to paint in a sombre dark green shade.
"First, teach you a much-needed and long overdue lesson in humility, to make you take back your insolent remarks. Next, to dress you in a costume that will become you beautifully and train you to carry yourself without slouching and to do away with the slovenly, ugly habits a young girl displays when she has no concept of pride and character," Mavis Fenwick arrogantly declared.
She made another sign, and Inez, who had grasped both Ardith's wrists behind her back, twisted them and forced the fuming brunette beauty over to the padded leather horse.
Instead of making Ardith mount astride this apparatus, the handsome, sensual maid made Ardith turn at the middle of one side of the apparatus, then suddenly pushed her down by her neck so her body was draped over it. Meanwhile Mavis, touching a button set in a panel on the opposite wall, made a pulley rope lower from the ceiling. At once, Inez, who had taken from the pocket of her skirt a strong rawhide thong and bound her victim's wrists tightly with it, attached the end of this pulley rope to the thong, thus pinioning the captive for the time necessary to complete the preparations for her chastisement.
Next, taking a key from the chain she wore about her neck, Inez hastened to the chest and opened it, returning with several more lengths of strong cord. One of these she tied about Ardith's wavy brown tresses, the other end she affixed to a ring set into the floor. Next the Castilian beauty wound a rope around Ardith's supple back, tying it to the body of the horse, bringing it around and back up to loop around the girl's back.
Thus Ardith Fenwick found herself posed in a bent-down posture over the gymnasium horse, her wrists behind her and yet drawn up high to the point where she had to arch on her sandals to keep from wrenching her shoulder muscles in the most painful way.
"Ohh! Ohh! What are you going to do? Why are you tying me up like this? Mavis, I order you to stop this nonsense or I certainly shall tell Dad!" Ardith tried a last desperate threat.
"Listen to the silly criatura," sultry Inez laughed huskily. "She orders you, querida, yes, when it is you instead who will soon be ordering her."
"Yes, Inez. Ordering and expecting immediate and total obedience!" the brunette dominatress laughed. "You may prepare Ardith for her first lesson in this new curriculum. It may be a little more taxing than the idiotic courses she is now studying in a public school where the teachers know absolutely nothing of punishment and humiliation, qualities without which no young girl can hope to become a docile and well-bred young lady."
Ardith Fenwick listened to this dialogue with growing horror and disbelief. Of course she had no way of knowing that Mavis had had a background of subjugation and sensual cruelty towards girls of her own age, some younger and some even older, back in the Nogales private institution which Mavis's rich patroness had founded. What she did realize was that her stepmother was speaking in highflown terms of which she understood little save the essential import that she was about to be punished. How, as yet she did not know, but the inference made her rebellious, for in her nineteen years and affianced, as well, lovely Ardith Fenwick believed herself immune to all such juvenile corrections!
Mavis Fenwick now removed her dress and appeared, dazzlingly svelte, in the black gleaming kid corselet, her nylon hose hooked at the tops to the hems of that gusseting sheath, with tiny silver clamps, while her black spike-heeled pumps elevated her in towering stature as a true imperatrix.
"At once, mistress!" Inez hissed.
To Ardith's indignant shame and despair, the voluptuous Castilian woman passed between the teenaged beauty and, swiftly seizing Ardith's skirt, lofted it well up. The elevation of the horse forced Ardith to bend with her waist exactly against the top, and so the skirt could be readily lifted over her posterior. But to prevent this, Ardith desperately tried to force herself forward, but Inez applied an insidious little pinch to the girl's tender side, which made Ardith cry out and squirm away, enabling the Castilian woman to complete the trussing-up of the outer garment. Next came a chastely cut, lace-trimmed white silk slip, which went the way of the skirt. Now, to keep the garments well above the condemned bottom, Inez took a thin, strong cord and passed it around the girl's waist, knotting it over the rolled-up clothes.
Ardith Fenwick's jouncy, rather spacious and voluptuously firm bottomcheeks now appeared, snugly sheathed in dainty white panty-briefs which showed off just a glimpse of the creamy base of her enticing young posterior. But when she felt Inez's gleaning fingers loosen the elastic waistband of this final veil to her virginal modesty, she uttered a shriek of horrified rage and shame: "NOOOOO!!! YOU SHAN'T, YOU SHAN'T!! YOU'VE ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT, DO YOU HEAR? STOP THAT!! TELL THAT HORRID CREATURE TO LET ME BE!! OH, YOU'LL BE SORRY FOR THIS, MAVIS, YOU MARK MY WORDS!! STOP IT! OH GOD!"
"I will, oh I will, my dear Ardith, mark my words," Mavis sarcastically rejoined, "and I will mark you in turn! Down with them, Inez. I'm longing to see that insolent backside of hers all readied for the discipline that it has far too long been spared!"
Mavis stood watching with folded arms, her face rapt with sensual triumph. Ardith Fenwick uttered a hoarse shout of powerless rage, then broke into choking sobs as her body shuddered violently. For Inez Corduba had just tugged down the fragile sheath, and the creamy white flesh of the victim's nether globes appeared, shivering and huddling in their owner's frantic humiliation.
"With what shall I begin her lesson, dear mistress?" Inez purred.
"The strap. The black leather strap which, like my attire, gleams with the power to subjugate this mutinous girl and make her respect its wielder as its wearer," Mavis replied with a strange smile of exultation. Once again the years had rolled back for her and she was in the ornate and beautifully furnished building which her dowager patroness had built, dominating a bevy of lovely young aristocratic girls, teaching them the meaning of servility and docility. Her nostrils dilated, her breasts rose and fell exuberantly as she relived the past.
Inez nodded with a smile, hastened to the chest and returned with a long leather strap. One end of it was doubled in thickness and was slightly wider to provide an adequate handle. As part of her maid's costume, Inez had worn a white apron over a black satin, short skirted dress, with black nylon hose, black high-heeled pumps and lace-trimmed maid's cap. Arthur Fenwick had found this costume provocative and delightful, hardly realizing it was part of the ritualistic and fetishistic procedure by which his new wife intended to enslave him and his daughters. In a little pocket of the white apron, Inez kept a little book in which she had recorded all the Fenwick girls' casual and unguarded remarks about her mistress and herself during the honeymoon, as well as their particular acts of misconduct.
Overwhelmed with shame and frantic at the thought of being thus exposed like a child for punishment, the like of which she had not experienced in all her mature nineteen years, Ardith groaned and jerked at her bonds. But the ingenious contrivance of the pulley rope which dragged up her bound wrists prevented her from exercising much freedom, though her hips and legs were perfectly free to move about, as her stepmother had planned. Moreover, she had already discovered that if she jerked her head about, the cord which was affixed around her gathered tresses and attached to the floor ring, caused cruel waves of hot, lacerating pain through her tender scalp. Her posture was acutely agonizing as well as humiliating-precisely what her domineering stepmother had calculated!
"NOOOOO!!!" Ardith wailed. "Not this! I'm nineteen, I'm going to be married, I'm too old to be treated in this shameful and cruel way! I demand that you stop and untie me at once! Oh, I'll tell my father, don't you worry, Mavis, and when he hears how you've treated me, he'll divorce you!"
"You still dare to give orders and you still threaten me in spite of the gravity of your situation? This shows me again, you foolish girl, how misguided you have been left to yourself to be all these years. But things are going to change. Inez, be kind enough to read me the list of Ardith's faults'" her stepmother challengingly countered.
"Segura, querida! She has three times during the honeymoon said that you were even more dangerous than the snake which killed her poor mother. She has ordered me about, though not so much as her sister Joan. One day she came home at three in the morning with this fiance of hers, and they stood kissing in the living room a long time before I heard the door close and his car start up, before he went away. She ha even told Phyllis and Joan they must be careful not t( let you take over their father and make him-how do you say it in English? Oh, yes-jump through a hoop She has said that you were just a gold digger and vamp. That is the worst of it, Senora Fenwick."
"It's serious enough. But I'm generous this firs) time. Since Ardith has apparently never been disciplined before, Inez, I think that twenty-five will be sufficient this first time, with the costume. And you will count them, to make sure that she receives her full due."
"OHH NOOOO!!!! YOU'RE SURELY NOT GOING TO WHIP ME WITH THAT HORRID STRAP, FOR GOD'S SAKE?" cried the aghast young beauty, writhing and stretching herself as much as her bonds allowed. A searing pain shot through her shoulderblades and armpits. In her desperate attempt to get loose, Ardith had unwittingly strained her shoulders and arms, lifted up and behind her at so precarious and unnatural an angle by the pulley rope which corded to her wris bonds. But even as she uttered a stifled cry of pain at this discomfort, a loud CRACKKK resounded in the wide basement as the black leather strap clung wickedly around the tops of her naked, creamy hips.
"AHHHHHH OHH, STOP IT! IT HURTS! YOU HORRID COWARDS, TO TIE ME UP AND BEAT ME! BOTH OF YOU MUST BE INSANE! OH, WAIT UNTIL DAD FINDS OUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO ME NOW!"
"One!" Inez placidly intoned.
CRACKKKK! The second stroke interrupted Ardith's passionate tirade. The strap landed straight across both buttocks, slightly down from the first mark. Now two bright red bands instantly appeared on the living canvas of ivory-white girlflesh on which the indomitible disciplinarian intended to paint a bitter hue of retaliatory discipline.
"OHHH! Don't! It hurts! It hurts!"
"Two!" was the only response from Inez.
Now, stepping back a little to take more careful aim, Mavis Fenwick drew back the strap and drew it venomously over the helpless young beauty's naked posterior an inch below the previous mark, with an angry THWACKKK!
"OHH NOO:! OH STOP IT, OH YOU'RE HURTING ME!!" the beautiful brunette wailed, her hips swerving violently to one side as she tried violently to jerk her wrists free. But all she did was add to her pangs by being compelled to arch up on tiptoe to prevent the swaying pulley rope from tractioning her shoulder muscles all the more torturingly.
"Three!" Inez Corduba exclaimed in a voice husky with sensual delight and greedy joy.
Now, heedless of Ardith's cries and sobs and pleas to stop, Mavis Fenwick swept the strap methodically over the seat of her naked stepdaughter, striping it with narrow flaming crimson weals from hipslopes to upper thighs. In her desperate suffering, Ardith kicked and twisted her hips from side to side, but she did not avoid a particle of the relentless impact of that punishing leather band which gleamed vengefully, as did the corselet worn by her beautiful stepmother-executioner.
Inez counted aloud, impassively, her eyes narrowly fixing on the growingly reddened behind, which contrasted so violently with Ardith's creamy upper thighs and lithe young calves.
By the eighteenth stroke, Ardith Fenwick's defiance and indignation had altered in favor of a more nearly propitiatory attitude.
CRACK!
"OHH, DON'T!! DEAR MAVIS, I BEG OF YOU, LET ME OFF ANY MORE!! I'M SO SORE! I DIDN'T MEAN TO INSULT YOU!! PLEASE FORGIVE ME, AND INEZ TOO, AND LET ME GO, I CAN'T STAND IT, I CAN'T!!"
"Nineteen!" was Inez's taunting rejoinder. Mavis raised her arm again. THWACKKKH!
"AHRRR!! OWOWOWOOOHHH!!!! OH HAVE MERCY, PLEASE, MAVIS DEAR, I WON'T OFFEND EITHER OF YOU AGAIN, OH, IF YOU'LL ONLY PUT THAT HORRIBLE STRAP DOWN, IT'S BURNING ME UP SO TERRIBLY! OHH, STOP, PLEASE, PLEASE!!!"
SMACKK!
"EEEEEOOOOUUUUU!!!! OHHHH, MAVIS I'M BEGGING YOU, OH PLEASE LET ME OFF NOW, I'VE HAD ENOUGH!!! I TAKE EVERYTHING BACK, I APOLOGIZE, OH, WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT? OH MY GOD, YOU'RE KILLING ME!!"
"Twenty-one!"
CRACKKKKH
"AIIIIAIIIII!!! Ohh, OWOWOW OOOOOHHHHH!! OHH, DEAR MAVIS, MAVIS, MERCY, YOU'RE CUTTING ME RAW! OH, I HURT SO, PLEASE SPARE ME ANY MORE, I WON'T EVER MAKE YOU ANGRY AGAIN, I PROMISE I WON'T!!! ONLY LET ME OFF, FOR GOD'S SAKE! I'M DYING!!"
"Twenty-two!"
But to the full count of the announced twenty-five, Mavis Fenwick, her eyes sparkling, her svelte body quivering in its gleaming sheath, applied the wicked strap, returning back up the crimson striped buttocks to the tops of the girl's hips, then back down again until the lash bit with a cruel sonorous impact on the ripest curves of both naked hemispheres, drawing a prolonged scream of intolerable suffering.
Weeping like a child, her body uncontrollably shuddering, shifting from foot to foot as if to seek in this ingenuous manner to disperse the fiery heat that blazed in her swollen virginal naked bottom, flogged for the first time in her tender life, Ardith Fenwick sobbed out her total defeat.
Going around the horse to confront the bent-over, weeping culprit, Mavis dangled the leather strap before the trembling lips of the weeping brunette. "Are you truly sorry for having said such dreadful things about your mother?" she cynically demanded.
A violent shudder wrenched Ardith's pinioned form. She could not speak, overwhelmed as she was by the torturing heat which that heinous strap-that very object she was now being asked so humiliatingly to kiss-had kindled in her virginal flesh-as well as by the incredibly humiliating despotism which her stepmother had exhibited towards her.
Inez approached stealthily behind the groaning young girl. Suddenly the Castilian woman raised her right hand and delivered a hard smack to each of Ardith's naked bottomglobes right where the color was deepest and darkest. A wailing cry escaped the sufferer: "OWW! OH, STOP! OH, NO MORE PLEASE, I CANT STAND IT ANY MORE!!"
"Speak to your mother when she asks you a question, then, Senorita!" Inez hissed.
"Yes, dear," Mavis interposed. "That is the next lesson: to speak with humility. Are you truly sorry for what you said about your mother?"
"Y-y-yes," Ardith panted in a dying voice.
"Yes what, dear?" was the insidious query.
"M-M-M-" Ardith began, but sobs choked her. And once again Inez dealt her another pair of open-handed smacks against the same hypersensitive summits of her naked, squirming bottom.
"AHRRR!! OH, DON'T! OH YES, MOTHER-MOTHER, I'M AWFULLY SORRY FOR ALL I SAID! OH PLEASE, MOTHER, DON'T SPANK ME ANY MORE NOW, OH PLEASE," Ardith hysterically wailed.
"There is nothing like good discipline on the bare flesh to teach a stubborn, thoughtless girl her place," Inez sententiously declared.
"As ever, you are right, my dear Inez," Mavis laughed. "Very good, Ardith, you have made a tolerable start. And now to show your appreciation for the lesson I have been so good as to give you, and you will note my careful consideration of your feelings, grownup as you are, in having punished you in privacy without letting your sisters or your father watch, you are going to kiss the strap that taught you this good lesson, and you are going to thank me for using it on your big naked bottom. Let me hear you say this, dear, and very quickly. I warn you that Inez gets most impatient when a pupil of mine does not show alertness to an order I give her."
Trembling convulsively as from ague, the agonized brunette stammered, her voice choking and shuddering, "Th-thank y-you, M-M-Mother ... f-for p-punishing mme ... with the ... s-s-strap...."
"Oh no, that won't do at all! Aren't you listening to me, dear? Inez, I think we may have to continue," Mavis sarcasticaly announced.
"My thought exactly, Senora Fenwick. The Senorita Ardith is very stubborn and willful, she has been allowed her way so many years. But we will change that, you and I."
Thus she spoke, and as she did so, Inez drew back her right hand and applied a resounding SMACK against Ardith's inflamed, swollen naked bottom.
A shriek escaped the sufferer; she tried to wriggle her hips from side to side to escape, but Inez relentlessly followed her, applying slaps with gusto all over that piteously reddened posterior.
"Inez won't stop until you've expressed yourself with more docility and goodwill, dear," Mavis counseled as she squatted down and proffered the strap towards the swollen and contorted face of the unfortunate young victim.
"AHRRR-OOOHHH, YES, YES, I'LL SAY IT, ONLY DO STOP, PLEASE, INEZ, I'M-OWW! OWW! OHHHH! I'M GOING TO SAY IT-ONLY GIVE ME A MINUTE-DON'T KEEP-AHHRR-OHH MY POOR SEAT! OHH, STOP! I'LL SAY IT AHRRR-OH M-MOTHER, P-PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR HAVING SAID-AHRRR! OHH, INEZ, PLEASE DON'T SPANK ME ALL THE TIME, I'M SAYING IT, I'M SAYING IT-OHHHH!!-Ohhhh, M-MOTHER, PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR ALL I SAID TO YOU AND INEZ. I WON'T-AHHHRRRRAHRRRR-OUCH-OHH, STOP IT, OH PLEASE MAKE INEZ STOP, I BEG YOU, MOTHER DEAR-I-I WON'T EVER DO IT AGAIN, AND I thank you for-AHRRR! Oh, it hurts my seat so! Ohh pleeease! DEAR, KIND INEZ, PLEASE DON'T SPANK MY POOR BOTTOM ANY MORE, I'M SORRY, DON'T YOU HEAR ME SAYING IT? And I th-thank you, M-Mother ... f-for having wh-whipped me-AHHHAHHHRRR!! OH, INEZ, PLEASE DON'T SPANK MY POOR BOTTOM SO HARD ON THE SAME SORE PLACE-PLEEASE! Wh-whip my bbottom with the st-strap to-to teach me a 1-lesson-OH, PLEASE-there, I've said it-oh please, ask her to stop, Mother, please have her stop spanking meeee now!"
Throughout this litany of shame and agony which humiliated the mature young beauty to the very core of her soul, the Castilian woman kept applying her solid palm relentlessly against the swollen cheeks of poor Ardith Fenwick's swollen, dancing, jerking, squirming bare bottom, till at last Mavis made a sign, satisfied with the degree of submission thus far achieved.
"I think this time, dear Inez, she is truly repentant. Now, to prove it to us both, Ardith, kiss the good strap that wrought such a wonderful change in your unruly nature!"
And again the perfidious, svelte brunette domina-tress proffered the grim black leather thong to the trembling lips and Ardith at last pressed them to the supple band that had brought her such misery.
"Now we shall teach her the beginning of a proper carriage, so that her innate gracefulness will be brought out. Even her fiance will be grateful to us for our good work," Mavis laughed.
CHAPTER NINE
At Mavis's sign, Inez untied the weeping girl and led her before the parallel bars. Then she ordered Ardith to grasp the top ends of the bars and corded the girl's wrists to them. Meanwhile, Mavis Fenwick had gone back to the open chest and returned with a one-piece corselet from which many straps and buckles dangled. While Ardith sobbed helplessly and closed her eyes, Inez took a pair of scissors and cut away the tight white woolen sweater, and then ripped away the bra, leaving the unfortunate brunette naked except for her half-socks and low, open-toed sandals with open heels.
Mavis now sternly ordered the naked girl to lift up first one leg and then the other and pull on the corselet, which the two women then drew up tightly till it fitted like a second skin. This sheath was made of lustrous black kid, but it was much thicker than the one which graced Mavis's svelte body. It covered Ardith to the throat, and it gusseted her between the legs, its ends reaching only to the upper thighs. Next a pair of spikeheeled pumps and a pair of gauzy black opera length mesh hose were put on, Ardith's wrists were untied. The tops of these diaphanous stockings were attached by tiny silver clamps to the hems of the corselet.
Mavis and Inez each held an arm of the subjugated brunette, making her walk with tiny, mincing steps, for she was unused to the unusual height of the narrow heels-back and forth around the basement "recreation room". It was an ordeal of unbelievable anguish for the still woefully sobbing brunette. The thick, tight, molding fit of the kid bodysheath compressed her well-thrashed bottom and seemed to revive all the flaming torment of the strap and Inez's far from lenient palm.
"She isn't ready for the gloves yet, dear mistress," Inez volunteered. "She's still too stiff and unnatural. I think a yardstick would stretch her arms out very well."
"Excellent idea! Bring me the gyved yardstick," Mavis agreed.
In a few moments, the sobbing beauty found her arms extended on each side and raised to the level of her shoulders. Her wrists were locked to the solid mahogany yardstick by means of metal clamps fixed in the wood at each end. This made her shoulders straighten. Now, ordered to walk about the room all by herself, she winced and groaned as each new halting step sent furious new waves of pain through her tightly compressed bottom.
"I think that an hour of standing in penitence would complete the first good lesson," Mavis decided. Inez accordingly led the pleading, agonized young beauty to one of the upright posts. The yardstick which forced apart Ardith's arms and several tiny metal rings set along its length. Inez now placed the victim so that one of the hooks set at the top of the post fitted into one of these rings, thus compelling poor Ardith to stand erect with her arms held up in cross, unable to alter her position, for the thick wooden band of the yardstick pressed against the top of her chest painfully if she tried to shift position. Even is she could manage to arch and wriggle so as to release the hook of the post from the ring on the yardstick it would avail her little; the brunette dominatress warned her: "We're going to leave you here for an hour, dear. When we return, if you have got free of this post of penitence, you will receive another sound spanking, but this time it will be over Inez's lap and with your father and sisters watching!"
"Oh no, noooo, Mother!" wailed the terrified brunette. "Don't let Dad or Joan or Phi see me like this-oh, don't tell them either-I-I'm begging you!"
Mavis regarded her beautiful stepdaughter ... her first new pupil ... with sadistic satisfaction. Hands on hips, her lips curved in an arrogant smile, she finally replied, "You see how much more docile you are becoming all by yourself? And this is only the beginning. Wait a bit, dear Ardith, until you've had a complete lesson in discipline and I tell you that you have graduated from your training course. But I promise you in advance-it will be a long, hard way. And now we shall leave you. Be very good, unless you want your father and sisters to watch Inez spank you on your big, naked, red bottom."
And with this final humiliating slur, Mavis Fenwick and Inez Corduba left the basement, while Ardith bowed her head and wept despondently.
CHAPTER TEN
As Inez and Mavis went upstairs, the former said to her mistress, "Querida Mavis, wouldn't it be wonderful if, this same night, you could discipline the Senor Fenwick's other muchachas? That would from the very start let him know who is truly in command in this house. How much like it would be to the old days when you ran the school at Nogales!"
"We shall make up our rules as we go along, Inez," Mavis purred with relish, her eyes half-closed as she seemed to relive the exciting seances of domination which she had initiated in Nogales.
It seemed that luck indeed was favoring Mavis and her olive-skinned Castilian accomplice. At ten-fifteen, the door opened and tall, slim, honey-haired Joan walked in, her school books under one arm, her face frowning with concentration about the examination the next morning. If the ponytailed blonde adolescent could have guessed what was in store for her, her frown would surely have deepened and her soft, carnation-tinted skin turned scarlet with horrified mortification.
"Ah, good evening, Joan dear," Mavis cooed mockingly from her vantage point in a deep armchair. She was half-hidden by the height of the chair from Joan's view, but Joan glanced up. Her eyes widened at the sight of her stepmother.
"Oh, hello," she mumbled.
Inez at this made a gesture to Mavis, which the latter perfectly comprehend, and which she acknowledged with a slight nod of her raven head.
"Where are you going now, Joan?" Mavis blandly inquired.
"To bed, natch," Joan coldly responded, with a sidelong glance at Inez who leaned back luxuriously in the armchair opposite her stepmother. "Doesn't she have any work to do now?"
This ill-timed, rude remark gave Mavis Fenwick precisely the opportunity for which she had longed. "She has, indeed, and I'm glad you reminded me, Joan. It's high time you and I came to an understanding about your future attitude towards Inez and me, your new mother. In fact, I notice that you haven't once called me Mother since your father brought me home here."
"That's right, and I don't plan to start," was Joan's inimical and haughty retort. She wore a pullover blue sweater, pedal pusher skirt of tight fitting black cotton which descended just to her knees, sneakers and white bobby socks, and her elegantly lithe, slim figure was delightfully shaped out by this teenaged costume. Adjusting the pile of books in her arms, she sighed audibly as from distaste and annoyance, and started toward the stairway to go to her room.
"One moment, if you please Joan," Mavis commanded, an edge of steel in her hitherto deceptively gentle voice.
"I told you I was going to bed!"
"Oh, you shall, you shall. But in a more chastened spirit than I'm afraid you now exhibit," was Mavis's mocking reply. "Inez, would you do me the favor of directing this insolent young lady to the training room?"
"Con mucho gusto, Senora Mavis!" Inez giggled as she rose, supple and swift on her feet, and advanced toward the startled teenager. Grasping Joan's right wrist in her right hand, stepping behind the surprised blonde, she tugged, and Joan's pile of books tumbled to the floor.
"Hey, what's the big idea? You pick those up, do you hear?" Joan angrily cried, and whirled. But Inez had swiftly seized Joan's other wrist with her left hand and now drew them both behind Joan's back, forcing them upwards till with a cry of pain her unwilling captive bent forward at the waist to ease the atrociously painful pressure.
Now, transferring both Joan's wrists to her left hand and gripping the girl by the nape of her neck by her right, Inez forced the helpless young blonde to march forward. To add to Joan's ignominious humiliation, when she proved recalcitrant in moving forward, the Castilian woman simply brought up her right knee and jostled Joan's firm, oval-contoured bottom, which compelled the victim to stumble forward with a cry of mingled rage and shame.
"Wait till I tell Dad what you've let this-this servant-do to me-Ouch! Oww! Stop that! You're hurting my wrists, you-you-you greaser! OOOOWWW-WOUUUU!!!" For Joan's use of the vulgar term by which whites insulted Mexicans had met with instant retaliation from the infuriated Castilian beauty. Her right knee suddenly bumped Joan's bottom viciously; then, releasing her struggling victim's neck, she drew back her right hand and applied a furious smack against the right globe of Joan's bottom.
Arrived at the stairs, Mavis now feared that Joan might lose her footing and severely hurt herself in her descent. She therefore took a hand. Inez passed the girl's hands swiftly over in front of the girl, and Mavis seized them by the wrists. Next, crouching, Inez seized the girl's slim ankles and hoisted her suddenly up in the air. Between the two of them, they trundled her downstairs, all the while she volubly and shrilly protested: "NOOOO!! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO! STOP IT THIS INSTANT! OH, YOU JUST WAIT TILL I TELL DAD HOW YOU'RE TREATING ME!"
Mavis and Inez now entered the wide basement "recreation room" and lowered Joan to her feet. She uttered a cry of disbelief and stupefaction-she had just seen her older sister!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Ardith! Oh my God, what have they done to you?" Joan cried, horrified at the sight which met her dilated hazel eyes. But before poor Ardith, whose face turned scarlet at the unexpected reunion with her sister, could reply, Mavis Fenwick silkily interposed.
"Joan, your sister has just received her first lesson in discipline. And without any further delay, you're going to have yours, which is indeed as long overdue as was Ardith's."
"Oh, you horrid, cruel woman, to treat Ardie that way!" Joan flared. "Just you wait till I tell Dad, and we'll see whether he thinks you're such great shakes-OWW! You slapped me!!"
Indeed, Inez had done just that. Enraged at the effrontery of the ponytailed teenager's remarks to her adored mistress, the Castilian woman had regaled Joan with a loud, stinging slap across her flushed cheek, and Joan recoiled, absolutely speechless at such brutal treatment.
"Decidedly you are spoiling for a whipping, Joan," Mavis slowly drawled. "Well, there's no need to delay your acquaintance with it any further."
The dominatress proceeded to remove her black satin dress and stood imperiously in her tight, cuirassing corselet. Joan stared at her stepmother as if the latter had just stepped out of a Martian spaceship. Petrified, mouth agape, eyes huge, she looked first at her stepmother and then at her sister, and she saw a curious similarity in the gleaming, multi-faceted luster of those two radiantly mirroring bodysheaths. Then, with a cry of horror, she turned and tried to run back up the stairs. But Inez, swift as a panther, was on her in a flash. Dragging her back by her ponytail and by one wrist, the Castilian maid forced the now frightened and screaming teenager over to the low, padded bench at one corner of the wide basement room, and pushed her down on her belly on the apparatus. Mavis, hurrying forward, came to Inez's aid by buckling the wide leather straps around the girl's slim wrists and ankles, till Joan Fenwick found herself stretched out helplessly on the punishment bench.
"LET ME GO! YOU'VE GOT NO RIGHT! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO TO ME?" she cried in a perfect fury of indignation at finding herself thus maltreated and shamefully bound.
"I'm going to give you something really worthwhile to cry about, Joan, just to begin with, you unruly, undisciplined, impudent brat!" Mavis angrily retorted. "Prepare her, Inez. And then you may read aloud her list of faults. Of course, I know in advance they are considerable."
"Indeed they are, Senora Mavis! Did you not hear how she called me a servant and then a greaser? For that insult alone, I beg you to permit me to apply her punishment," the Castilian woman eagerly demanded.
Joan Fenwick uttered a cry and pressed herself down frantically against her bench of martyrdom. For Inez, while she had made that petition to her mistress, had calmly reached under the victim's loins, tugged down the zipper of the pedal pushers, and loosening the garment at the waist, began to tug it down. Finding this somewhat difficult because of the thickness of the faddish garment, she seized them by the ends of the legs and tugged with all her might. Desperately, with a cry of "OHH NO, YOU SHAN'T GET THEM OFF, I FORBID YOU TO, DO YOU HEAR?" Joan pushed herself down on the bench with all her strength, again hampering Inez's efforts. But the voluptuous woman merely chuckled.
She went to the oaken chest, opened it with the key, and took out a pair of shears. Armed with these, she proceeded to snip the garment right down the middle of Joan's bottom. Then, having eased the tightness of the garment in this way, she calmly seized the two yawning flaps of cut cloth and tugged them down with all her might, fairly ripping the garment off. Joan uttered a shriek: "Ardie, Ardie, help me, for heaven's sake! Oh, what's she going to do to me? Mavis, make her stop!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
Mavis Fenwick smiled as she advanced towards the bench on which Joan was tightly stretched on her belly, wrists and ankles held securely in the buckling leather straps. "Mavis, is it, Joan? I'm not fond of having a young upstart like you address her mother by her first name! If only for that, you deserve to be punished! Get her ready at once, Inez! And you shall have ample satisfaction for the insult that she gave you! I will see to it that she forgets that word forever," the brunette imperatrix coldly declared.
The removal of the trousers-like pedalpushers which in these contemporary times most teenagers delight in wearing, revealed a pair of fetching pink nylon panties with rather loose legs and dainty lace trim around the hems, as well as a matching bra. The Castilian woman, now inserting her fingers into the waistband of the snug panties, tugged at them violently, while Joan, with a piercing shriek, fought to prevent the supreme outrage, grinding herself down against the bench, turning her scarlet face back to her cynically smiling executioner, then regarding her older sister with eloquent appeal-one to which Ardith, of course, was powerless to respond.
When Joan persisted in pressing herself down to halt the descent of this final veil of her virginal modesty, Inez resorted to a couple of fierce, open-palmed slaps of her right hand over the tensing, jouncy oval-contoured bottom of the ponytailed, honey-haired teenager. Joan cried out in rage at this humiliating, childish assault, and her body arched and jerked, permitting Inez with a swift movement of her hands to whisk the thin panties down to the middle of the victim's sleek, long, gracefully shaped carnation-satiny thighs. The lovely firm jouncy upturned oval-shaped cheeks of Joan's naked bottom were exposed for the very first time in her young life of seventeen years to corporal punishment, and she at once burst into noisy laments and threats, finding herself so mortifyingly "prepared."
"OHHH! YOU HATEFUL, WICKED, CRUEL THING, TO LET THAT SERVANT DO THAT TO ME! PULL MY PANTIES BACK UP! YOU'VE GOT NO RIGHT AT ALL TO TREAT ME LIKE THIS, DO YOU HEAR? OH, WAIT TILL DAD GETS HOME, YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS AND FOR WHAT YOU DID TO POOR ARDIE! UNTIE ME AND PULL MY PANTIES BACK UP, I ORDER YOU, D'YOU HEAR?" came Joan's raging, hysterical cries.
"What a noisy chatterbox the muchacha is, Senora," Inez mocked, her eyes glittering with gloating anticipation of the vengeance that she would be allowed to mete out to the pampered young girl who had so grossly insulted her. "Shall I get the strap?"
"No," Mavis Fenwick smilingly answered, "bring me that pair of black leather gloves, the ones I was about to throw away because they were so badly scuffed and scratchy on the outside."
"OH, si, si, yo comprendo!" Inez exclaimed with a sly wink. Gleefully, she strode to the oaken chest and returned with a curious pair of black leather gloves. They were of elbow-length, the forearm part thick and stiff and gleaming, badly scuffed and roughened all over the palms and fingers, and their thickness was much more than the usual skin-tight molding sheathes with which Mavis usually gloved herself. These very gloves had been used at the school in Nogales in applying manual chastisement to the bottoms of her aristocratic young charges; they were to be used precisely for this purpose on the voluptuous young bottom of seventeen-year-old honey-haired Joan Fenwick.
Inez eagerly helped Mavis draw them on her hands, not without some effort, till the fingers fitted tightly and the thick stiff forearm section of the gloves were drawn as far as they would go. She next produced her little memorandum notebook from the pocket of her apron, that notebook in which she had patiently and secretly inscribed the many antagonistic remarks and mischievous acts of conduct committed by the three Fenwick girls, and read them aloud. It appeared that Joan had ordered her about no fewer than eight times. Joan had insultingly referred to Mavis as "that woman who married Dad" as well as "that slinky female who tricked poor Dad into marrying her so she could get all his dough." Joan's room had been left untidy four times for Inez to put into order. Finally, Joan had twice gone over to her girl friend Shirley's house without asking permission or, since perhaps it would not be expected of a teenage girl to ask a mere maid for permission, at least without mentioning the fact as any dutiful girl ought to do.
"That is a very grave record," Mavis Fenwick commented when Inez had at last concluded. "I can't hope to undo the faults of seventeen years of pampered indulgence which you have enjoyed in a single night. But I do hope to make a very small beginning into ameliorating your very serious character flaws and, if nothing more, teaching you respect for myself and for Inez, who is not your servant, but mine, and consequently never to be ordered about by you, by Ardith or your other sister Phyllis."
"Ohhh!" was all that Joan could gasp, overwhelmed as she was by this specious and menacing discourse.
"I am therefore," the dominatress continued, "to start with a simple spanking, to impress on you by this juvenile means hew really childishly you have been acting ever since I became your mother. After I have finished, depending on what your attitude is then, Inez will conclude the first part of your punishment by giving you the paddle until you humbly apologize for the despicable word you dared use to her, a word which I never wish to hear pass your lips again. Get ready now, Joan, I am going to spank your naughty, impudent naked bottom until I think you have learned a few obvious manners."
While she had been speaking, her maid had thoughtfully drawn up a low comfortable footstool to the left of the bench behind the writhing, groaning, angrily sobbing Joan, who, furiously shamed at this embarrassing exposure of her most intimate person, had been jerking madly at her wrists and ankle straps to absolutely no avail.
Comfortably and leisurely seating herself, Mavis Fenwick, her eyes fixing on the area condemned to its very first corporal punishment put her left palm on the small of the girl's beautifully sculptured slim bare back, and raising her gloved right hand, applied a vigorous and noisily sonorous Smackkk!
"NOOOOO!! OH, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, YOU WICKED, HORRID THING, TO DO THAT TO ME! YOU COWARD, TO TIE ME DOWN AND DO THIS TO ME WHEN DAD'S NOT HERE TO STOP YOU!!" Joan shrilled, looking back with tear-blurred, widened eyes at her tormentress.
"As to that, Joan, I fully intend to tell your father why I found it necessary to discipline you this evening. Your insolence to me when you came in just now was motive enough for this spanking, to say nothing of your many other faults which Inez has already listed. By all means, I want you to tell him. And I intend to give you a good deal to tell him about when you do," the dominatress mockingly answered. With this, she applied a second spank, even noisier and more stinging than the first, on the other naked globe of Joan's behind, inflicting a furiously bright pink outline of the leather gloved palm and the thickly sheathed fingers which fell like the thongs of a martinet on the trembling, flinching bare flesh.
Inez, arms folded, standing at the head of the bench, watched with glee at this prelude to the well-merited reckoning which this nasty-tongued muchacha had coming to her.
Mavis paused to contemplate the effect of the heavy, roughly surfaced glove on the velvety, carnation-skinned hemispheres of her young stepdaughter's naked bottom. Then, smiling with obvious satisfaction at the captive's reaction, for Joan was tugging wildly at her straps, as well as the vivid imprint of the first trial spanks, resumed the chastisement.
Methodically warming to her task, she visited Joan's squirming, tensing, huddling behind with furious slaps, alternating on the firmly contoured oval hillocks which thus experienced their very first initiation into the stinging onus of a spanking, spacing the blows about twenty seconds apart. Ardith sobbed in compassion for her place at the post of penitence as her stepmother relentlessly raised her gleamingly sheathed right arm, hovered it, then descended it like a plummet down upon the vulnerably upturned naked seat of her younger sister. Joan tried to control her groans and sobs, realizing after the first eight or ten spanks that pleading and threatening would not deter the svelte brunette and her eager Castilian accomplice from carrying out the shameful attack on her private person. So burying her face on the surface of the bench, Joan tried to endure her ordeal and to disperse its humiliating and painful torment from her mind.
But as if realizing the young girl's supreme resistance and taking it as a personal challenge of defiance and as a test of her own punitive abilities, Mavis Fenwick paused after about the eighteenth spank. She wriggled her fingers to assure herself that the glove thoroughly fit and also to relax the tension of her fingers. Then, sliding her left arm over the lower back of the attractive honey-haired young captive, her gloved fingers digging into Joan's quivering bare side, she leaned a little more from her footstool towards the tethered captive and resumed the chastisement. But this time the blows landed every forty-five seconds, with much severer, and noisier impact than before. The lengthier pause between each spank increased Joan's humiliation as well as the throbbing, smarting pangs inflicted by the rough-surfaced leather glove. Involuntarily, she uttered a choking groan, then a cry, then a series of "Owwwwws!" and "Ooooooohhhhs!" while her angrily reddened bottom jerked and twisted spasmodically as the burning pain cumulatively progressed through her naked behind.
It was quite obvious that Mavis Fenwick sought to make her stepdaughter cry and beg for mercy, to humble her utterly. For now, after about twenty-six spanks, she stopped again, once more adjusted the encirclement of her left arm around the culprit's side, and then began to spank with flailing descents of her highly raised right arm, utilizing a full minute between smacks, and alternating on the now vividly streaked and brightly red-inflamed globes of Joan's firm quaking naked bottom. Each such blow drew, this time, a shrill wail of pain, a jerking and tossing of the burning area attacked, while the girl began to turn her face back, her eyes huge and questioning and blurred with tears as if mutely asking how much longer this infamous, demeaning punishment would go on.
"She hasn't yet asked your pardon, Senora Mavis," Inez slyly remarked as the thirty-second spank at the top of Joan's right hip drew a sobbing "Oww-wooooohhhhh, oh damn it anyhow!"
"No, she hasn't," Mavis laughed. "And she really meant damn me anyway, just then, didn't you, Joan dear?" the stepmother taunted as she brought down her right palm with a noisy Whackkk on the base of the girl's naked left buttock.
"Yes! Yes, I did mean that! You-you horrible, nasty, hateful old thing, I'm sorry Daddy was such a fool as to marry you, d'you hear?" Joan hysterically cried.
"Madre de los Santos!" Inez vituperatively hissed, "the wicked, shameless hussy! She's not at all contrite. Truly, Senora, she deserves a much harsher dose!"
"In good time, Inez. At the moment, I am preparing her insolent bare bottom for your solicitous attention," Mavis laughed as she now applied to poor Joan's flaming naked posterior a spiteful little pinch at the base of each tender contracting oval buttock, drawing a convulsive lunge and wriggling and a muffled sobbing "Oww!" from the helpless yet still defiant young captive.
"Oh please, please, let her off now, you've spanked her enough, please let her off!" Ardith suddenly cried from her post of penitence.
"Gag her, dear Inez. And for her failure to call me mother, you will give her a slap on each cheek before you do so," Mavis crisply ordered.
"Oh Daddy, Daddy, if only you'd come home with Phyl to save us from her!" Joan tearfully cried out.
Her tear-blurred gaze followed Inez, who calmly walked towards the post. Reaching Ardith, who whimpered and cowered back, Inez now applied two stinging slaps, each of which drew cries of pain and shame from the unfortunate brunette.
Then, pinching shut Ardith's dainty nose, Inez inserted a rubber-pear gag, making the girl's cheeks bulge out. At once she tied a black satin bandanna over the trembling, forced-out lips, and poor Ardith Fenwick was reduced to muffled, incoherent sobs and gasps.
"Thank you, querida," Mavis said. To add to poor whimpering, fidgeting Joan's distress, the stepmother had been sadistically rubbing the rough-surfaced palm of her spanking glove over the furiously inflamed naked seat of the young victim.
"Oh, you're quite welcome, dear mistress! Isn't it my turn with her yet?" Inez eagerly demanded.
"Very soon. I think I have warmed her impertinent behind enough so that she will feel the need for repentence, humility and apologetic behavior when you resume her punishment," Mavis said. Then, abruptly, she concluded the first portion of poor Joan's spanking by dealing the girl's writhing, swollen oval-shaped posterior six well-spaced vigorous handsmacks, first to the left cheek, then the right, going from top to base of the luscious posterior, each of which drew a loud agonized wail and furious threshings-about of the lovely young tethered body on the punishment bench.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"There!" Mavis Fenwick said as she rose from the footstool and tugged off the thick black leather glove, "I think she will be about ready to show more contrition, and also apologize very humbly to you, Inez."
Judging from the violently streaked, angrily reddened bottom, of the squirming, sobbing honey-haired girl stretched out on the leather-padded bench, Joan Fenwick had received fully as much punishment as her older sister. But she was destined now to pass into the hostile charge of the Castilian maid whose narrowed and glowing eyes bespoke an impatience to avenge herself for the insults which Joan had thoughtlessly uttered in her youthful bravado.
"The strap now, Senora Mavis?" she asked the svelte brunette dominatress. But the latter shook her head: "No, Inez dear, she is still defiant and very stubborn, and continues to insult me worse than ever. I recommend the paddle, but deftly, Inez, in the way you know so well!"
"Si, si! I will sting her to humility," the olive-skinned woman said as she walked over to the oaken chest and returned with an oval-shaped thin springy pinewood paddle whose short handle had been taped to provide a secure grip.
Plumping herself down on the footstool, and without bothering to wait, Inez directed a vertical blow of the instrument directly over the right globe of Joan's furiously smarting, brilliantly-red-glowing bare bottom. The effect was magical; Joan's naked hips arched up and then swerved from side to side; then she fell back on the bench with a muffled thud, and, tilting back her head, wailed: "OWWWW OOOHM OH DON'T, DON'T PADDLE ME, NOT AFTER THAT AWFUL SPANKING, I'M RAW!! OH STOP HER, MAVIS!"
Whack-Smack-Thwack-crackkkk! Three times the paddle in Inez Corduba's right hand flashed down, continuing the vertical pattern just begun alternating on the quaking swollen cheeks of Joan's naked bottom. Screams, sobs, babbled protestations of pain were instantly torn from the seventeen-year-old honey-haired sufferer: "AHRRR!! OHHH OH MY GOD! OOOH, STOP!! NO MORE! OHH GOD, OHH PLEASE HAVE HER STOP, I'm SORRY!! OH, DO STOP, PLEASE!!"
The young girl's wrists and ankles jerked against the buckled straps that held her down to punishment, but they did not give an inch. Her pretty face turned back, contorted and tearstained, Joan fixed her exorbitantly dilated eyes on her relentless stepmother who stood at the left of Inez watching and smiling faintly.
Mavis Fenwick now remarked: "That is a little better, Inez. She begins to realize her faults. Continue if you will."
"Si, I wish to. Now she feels it each time, because the gloves did as you say, prepare her impudent bottom. There, there, querida Joan, do you wish to call Inez a greaser again, eh? There-are you sure you want me to clean up your room all the time and pick up after you-there-what did you think of that one? And the shame of it, a big girl like you, her panties down being spanked on her big bare seat because she sulks like a little child and will not acknowledge her mother as a dutiful daughter should-there-and there-now what do you say to all that?"
Punctuating her sarcastic questions with quick, stinging blows of the paddle which she now directed adroitly across the bounding, violently streaked and burning cheeks of Joan Fenwick's posterior, Inez watched the girl's naked hips writhe and swerve and twist and shake in tumultuous upheavals.
Joan, conquered at last, acknowledged her defeat with piteous wails and sobbing entreaties: "AHRRR! OH STOP! DO PLEEEASE PLEASE STOP!!! FORGIVE ME, MOTHER, I DIDN'T MEAN TO BE NAUGHTY!! OUCH!! OOOOHHHEEEAAARHHH!! INEZ, AHRRR!! OH, I DIDN'T MEAN IT, FORGIVE ME, ONLY DO LET ME OFF NOW! OHH, YOU'RE PADDLING ME RAW, YOU ARE, YOU'RE KILLING ME!! OH, INEZ, I BEG OF YOU, PLEASE STOP! AHRRR! AIRRR! OHHH, DON'T SPANK ME ANY MORE, OH MOTHER, PLEASE ASK HER TO STOP! I APOLOGIZE TO YOU BOTH, I REALLY DO!! AHRRRR! OHH LET ME OFF IT NOW, OH GOD, PLEEEEACE!'!! Frantic with terror lest Inez be permitted to go on endlessly whacking her burning, swollen bottom with that wickedly springy, thin paddle, pocr Joan broke down and humbly begged for mercy. The lips of the dominatress curled in a triumphant smile at the girl's plaintive appeal of "Mother," the word which Joan had so long denied her stepmother's ego. At last she made a sign. Grudgingly, Inez got in a last pair of swats, diagonally over the suffering girl's burning, writhing, tossing naked bottom, and lowered the paddle with the greatest reluctance in the world.
"Very well. I may let you off now if you'll submit to my authority," Mavis at last drawled. "Do you admit you have been impudent, insolent and insulting to us both?"
A violent series of shudders shook Jaon Fenwick's body, and the livid cheeks of her naked behind gaped and contracted in a series of spasmodic contractions, as the unhappy girl, summoning her breath through her sobs and groans, told her: "-Y-Y-Yes ... Y ... Yes."
"Yes what?" Mavis demanded.
Smackkk! Inez needed no other cue to apply the paddle again in a short glancing blow that bit home over the base of Joan's tortured naked posterior.
"AHRRR!! OH, NO MORE! YES, MOTHER, YES, STOP PLEASE!" Joan shriekingly capitulated.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Weeping bitterly, Joan Fenwick was released from her bench of bondage and suffering only after she kissed the paddle, apologized to Inez and begged for forgiveness humbly, then thanked her for the good spanking which the Castilian maid had condescended to give her in her own best interests.
But Mavis Fenwick was not content with this humiliation. She went a step further, obliging the weeping, shamed blonde teenager to kneel down and humbly kiss each of Inez's gleaming black kid pumps in token of recognition that the status of the maid was to be respected as much as that of her own stepmother.
Joan was then obliged to remove all the rest of her clothes and to stand naked, at which she covered her face with her hands and burst into heartfelt sobs. The two dominatresses greedily devoured the unhappy girl with their glittering eyes.
Joan Fenwick wore her honey-colored hair in a very charming and saucy ponytail. She was perhaps an inch taller than Ardith, her older sister, who was about five feet five and a half inches in height. Joan had hazel eyes which at times, when she was emotionally overwrought-as she certainly was now!-showed green flecks in the iris. Her nose was Grecian, with just a trifle of uptilt to the tip, and thin very widely flaring wings. Her mouth was full and sweet, the lower lip somewhat riper than its lovely twin. Crying as she now was, the lower lip took on a kind of tremulous, juvenile cast. Her chin was very deeply dimpled, and her carnation, pink and white soft skin was absolutely bewitching.
She had lovely long thighs, delightfully contoured, and sleek sinuous calves. Her breasts were also admirable, high-perched young gourds, just a trifle pendant, with wide soft pale coral aureolae and adorably soft little pink buds in the centers. Her belly was graciously flat with a very tiny and deep navel. At the apex of her thighs she had a surprisingly thick, fluffy mound of light brown pubic hair which did not quite conceal, however, the delicate pink lips of her virgin cunt.
There was a kind of angularity to her cheekbones which gave her a somewhat sophisticated look, and Inez had already commented that Joan tried to play the lady on occasion and to give herself great airs. But now as she stood, head bowed, her shoulders shaking with sobs, and her bottom absolutely livid from the thorough thrashing it had received, she looked nothing so much like an unfortunate young child who has just received a severe corporal punishment from a parent and is trying its best to cry the pain and shame away.
They did not give her much time to weep, however. Her stepmother and the maid now dressed the honey-haired culprit in a gleaming black kid corselet just like Ardith's. Then they gagged her in turn, and placing a heavy wooden yardstick with metal gyves locked to her wrists just as Ardith was fettered, they forced her to stand against an adjacent post with the rings set into the yardstock fixing to a little hook set into the wooden post "in meditation until it is time for you to go to bed," as Mavis told her.
Then Mavis and her maid went upstairs to smoke a cigarette, to savor a glass of Arthur Fenwick's good brandy, and to discuss animatedly the admirable affectiveness of the very first discipline dealt out to Ardith and Joan, as well as to set forth a prescribed set of rules which would govern all three girls henceforth, and the neglect of which would cost them not only humiliating spanking but also painful bondage.
It was about a quarter of eleven when the key turned in the lock and Arthur entered with Phyllis, the youngest daughter.
At fifteen, Phyllis Fenwick was a charmingly pert, flaming red-haired girl whose snub nose, small vivacious mouth, gray-green eyes with insolently thick and high-arching brows indicated a very vivid temperament. Her figure was already surprisingly mature, in spite of her age. One saw at once her full, spaciously rounded young bottom and her high-perched budding little titties which looked like two surging pears. Under the coat she wore a white cotton blouse, green cotton skirt, yellow bobby socks, and her pretty little feet were shod in comfortable loafers. Women twice her age would have envied Phyllis Fenwick her complexion, for it was a rich creamy tint pigmented with adorable tiny flecks. She clung to her father's arm affectionately, hugging him tighter still when she noticed that Mavis and Inez were there in the living room and that Inez was maliciously smirking as she stared at her.
"Did you enjoy the movie, Arthur dear?" Mavis purred.
The handsome, pleasant-faced man flushed at this intimate name, as generally Mavis used it only in their room, when they were fucking or when she was compelling him to pay homage to the mystic cult of kid and leather and to acknowledge her powers as a dominatress. Clearing his throat, he finally meekly nodded to them and said, "Oh, yes, darling, that was a fine chance for me to get together with my little girl Phyl. We haven't had too many evenings like this lately, as you well know, Mavis."
"No, and you won't soon again. Arthur, I'm really surprised at your thoughtlessness! Tomorrow's a school day, and Phyllis needs her rest more than she does a movie. There's time for that tomorrow night or Saturday. Next time please consult me about your children's escapades," Mavis insolently broke in.
"Escapades, dear?" he echoed, his eyes widening at Mavis's imperious tone. "But certainly a father taking his daughter out isn't what you'd call an escapade."
"Perhaps not, Arthur, but I am referring to the very unsatisfactory reports I have had on Phyllis from Inez."
"Oh, her!" grumbled Phyllis, glancing up at her father as if expecting moral support in her distaste for the malicious olive-skinned protegee of her stepmother.
"And there, Arthur, if you will notice is one of the very things I'm so displeased about," Mavis broke in. "Phyllis treats Inez like a lowly servant. She's been very rude to her, and she hasn't yet called me 'Mother' as any wellbred daughter ought to."
"Oh, honey, come now, don't be so strict with her!" Arthur Fenwick laughed softly. "Give her time. We're going through a transitional period, you know. You certainly can't expect the girl to be drawn to you right from the first. It takes a little while, but when they get to know you better they'll love you as I do."
"I entirely disagree, Arturito," was Mavis's tart reply. "For your information, I found it necessary to punish both Ardith and Joan this evening."
"Punish them both?" he gasped. "Whatever for?"
"For being spoiled, insolent, insulting to Inez and me alike, and stubbornly insistent on having their own way without the slightest concern for my wishes!" was the cold and direct reply.
"B-But-" he began.
"You will recall that you granted me absolute authority to take charge of their discipline in the manner I should select as best for them, didn't you?" Mavis bluntly interposed.
Arthur Fenwick bent his head, flushing hotly. "Y-Yes, Mavis dear."
"Very well then, Arturito," again she mocked him by using that subtly endearing term which was their private code to complete his submission to her as his dominatress. "I insist that you take steps at once to begin the training of Phyllis, in just the same way in which your other daughters have already begun theirs."
"W-What do you mean, dear?" he stammered uneasily.
"Just this!" his svelte brunette wife exclaimed. "You're going to tell Phyllis to submit herself humbly to a good sound spanking, and she will go to Inez, whom she has most offended, and beg her to apply it."
"You-you're joking, Mavis! Surely you don't mean-"
"I never joke about discipline, Arturito. Have you so soon forgotten your promise?" At this, Mavis's eyes flashed fire as they compellingly fixed on his apologetic, flushed face.
"N-no, bbut-"
"At once! Why should she escape what her sisters have already rightfully and deservedly had?"
"Where are they?" Arthur Fenwick stammered hoarsely.
"Downstairs. Come, since Phyllis's punishment should be conducted down there too, you shall see the greatest improvement which I have already obtained from Ardith and Joan."
"Daddy, oh no! You aren't going to let that-that maid of hers spank me, are you?" Phyllis, in great alarm grabbed at her father's sleeve.
"Mavis dear, it-it's late, and surely-" Arthur Fenwick faintly stammered, his eyes fixed appealingly on his wife's lovely, stern face.
"The lesson will be all the better for the lateness of the hour. Better late than never, you know, Arturito. Besides, since she is the youngest, if she is very docile and humble, I shan't be too demanding this first time. Come along!"
"Daddy! Nooo!" wailed Phyllis drawing back and still holding onto her father's arm.
"Arturito, I order you to bring her along at once! Otherwise you will add to her punishment-and your own as well."
This last phrase was a murmured invocation, and Arthur Fenwick turned scarlet, then bowed his head, a slave to the imperious dominatress, just as his own daughters were!
"I-I guess you'd better mind your mother, honey," he said weakly.
"Oh no! You wouldn't spank me! Daddy, you never in your life laid a hand on us girls, not till that awful woman came!" Phyllis stormed, almost in tears.
"And that, Phyllis, is going to cost your impudent bottom an extra ten spanks, and you will say 'I apologize, dear mother' after each," Mavis angrily cut in.
"I won't! I won't! Daddy, tell her she can't do that to me! I'm fifteen, and I'm much too old to be treated that awful way!" Phyllis groaned as she clung to her father more tightly.
"Too old? Ardith is nineteen and engaged, you know, but that did not stop me from giving her the strap on her naked seat," Mavis calmly declared.
"Mavis, oh my God! You didn't!" Arthur Fenwick gasped, his eyes bulging with incredulity.
"Ask her yourself," Mavis shrugged. "She's down there waiting for you. The fact is, she insisted that she have the opportunity to tell you what I did to her. So did Joan, too. Come along now!"
Dominated by his wife's imperious mien and tone, Arthur Fenwick led the reluctant sobbing red-haired Phyllis down the stairs to the basement, which he had not visited since its conversion from a playroom into a chamber of disciplinary methods, bondage and fetishistic ordeal. Thunderstruck at the sight of his pretty daughters Ardith and Joan standing stiffly erect in their kid corselets with arms in cross and gyved to wooden yardsticks, he turned to Mavis, speechless, his eyes questioning and imploring.
"Inez, you may remove their gags," his wife said, and the Castilian woman obeyed.
"Ardith, tell your father what happened and why," Mavis solemnly commanded. Her compelling gaze fixed on the lovely brunette, and carried with it such an indescribably menacing warning of dire punishment if compliance was not forthcoming that Ardith gasped and trembled. Then the lovely brunette stammered, "I was rude and th-thoughtless, Daddy. A-and M-mother p-punished me for my own g-good." She bit her lips as her eyes filled with lustrous tears.
"Oh, gosh!" Phyllis stammered, woefully aware that if her outspoken big sister submitted so humbly to such a humiliating punishment, there could be little hope for her to escape a similar fate.
"And you, Joan? Why did I punish you?" Mavis turned to the honey-haired girl.
"For ... for ... in-insulting Inez ... and n ... not being respectful to y-you, M-Mother, and-and I-I'm ever so s-sorry," came the tearfully stammering reply.
The svelte brunette's eyes glowed with triumph. "You see, Arturito? Are you at last convinced that no matter what a girl's age is, a firm hand is the only way to make her admit authority?"
He nodded, humbled by her indomitable will. The magnetic gleaming radiance of her training costume which limned her voluptuous body in its glittering cuirass of compulsion and sexual allure, was like a hypnotic charm upon this mature man who, until his marriage, had been the very soul of normalcy and manliness.
Once again Mavis Fenwick's lips curved in a savoring smile of victory. "Very good," she said briskly. "Then, Arturito, you'll tell Phyllis to go ask Inez for a good spanking. This very moment!"
"Daddy, oh, please, no, don't let her spank me! Oh, Daddy, if-if-I have to be spanked, you do it!" The lovely young redhead sobbed, shrinking up tightly against her father as she sought protection against the sudden dramatic family change which appeared to have robbed her even of her own trustworthy father.
"No, Arturito." Once again the dominatress calmly interposed. Make her do what I wish! Or do you prefer to have me punish you here and now?"
At this Arthur Fenwick caught his breath and bit his lips, for his beautiful, mature and exotic wife had suddenly bared the naked secrets of the bedroom and he could only hope that his girls had not caught the innuendo.
But Ardith had caught it. "Daddy!" she cried, aghast at the implication of that insolent, demanding phrase.
Arthur Fenwick, red as a beet, took hold of Phyllis's wrist firmly and said to her in a harsh voice which she did not recognize, "You go do what your mother wants, this minute, do you hear?"
"Oh, please, no, please, Daddy!" Phyllis was trembling and her eyes were filled with tears.
"Arturito!" came Mavis's warning voice.
Arthur Fenwick trembled. Once again his eyes lowered before the incredibly hypnotic gaze of his tyrannical wife. Then, seizing Phyllis by the elbow, despite her sobs and protests, he marched her over to the smiling Inez and sternly commanded, "Say it!"
Fidgeting from foot to foot, wringing her hands in desperation, poor Phyllis stammered in a choking voice, "Pl-please-I-Inez w-will you give-mme a good sp-sp-spanking ...?"
"Gladly, muchachita!" Inez seated herself on the low flat whipping bench and beckoned with her forefinger. "Put yourself over my lap. If you are very, ver humble, I will only use my hand this time."
Crying softly in her shame, and with a last imploring look at her helpless and bemused father, Phyllis Fenwick crossed over to the bench and slowly, ever so slowly, laid herself down over Inez's lap.
Expertly, the beautiful mature Castilian woman rucked up Phyllis's pretty green skirt and petticoat, then swiftly descended the little cotton panties, despite the teenager's anguished pleas to be allowed to keep them on. Arthur Fenwick, tortured by his youngest daughter's sobbing supplications, looked at his wife, but she shook her head so he helplessly fell silent.
Then, clamping her muscular left leg over Phyllis's calves Inez began to spank with slow deliberate slaps, humiliating the girl at first, making her aware of the shamefulness of her situation and the necessity to submit. But after perhaps a dozen such slowly spaced, light slaps which left a vivid pink over the creamy-skinned halfmoons of Phyllis's charming rounded bottom and drew only sobs of shame and groans of despair from the pretty culprit, Inez now began to spank in earnest, quickening the tempo and increasing the stinging impact of her blows.
Immediately aware of this change of tactics, Phyllis writhed, tried to get free and sought to cover up her burning bottom. But Inez pinned her wrists with her left hand and continued with gusto till by the fortieth blow Phyllis piteously implored pardon, swearing she would never be naughty again, and humbly calling out: "OOOOOH AHRRR! OWWOOOOW!! OHH, MOTHER, MAKE HER STOP! I'LL BE SO GOOD, OHH, MOTHER, TELL HER IT'S ENOUGH NOW!! I WON'T EVER BE RUDE OR NAUGHTY AGAIN!!
At last the Castilian maid stopped, and Phyllis was obliged to thank her for the spanking and kiss the spanking hand in gratitude for condescending to discipline her. Then she too was made to strip naked, while her father watched, like a man hypnotized and in a dream.
Phyllis was about five feet four and a half inches in height, and her red hair was cut in helmet style to frame her insouciant face. It was somewhat oval, with slantingly set cheekbones, but her body at fifteen was already astoundingly mouthwatering. And even her father could not help staring at her nakedness without experiencing a secret and guilty lust.
The widely spaced young pears of her titties had brownish-coral aureolae, and her nipples were as large as Joan's, and even more provocative in their rosy hue. Her bellybutton was wide and shallow, and a surprisingly thick dark-reddish cluster of silky pussy curls shielded the very plump and tempting mound of her virgin Venus. To complement her saucily rounded and rather full bottomcheeks, which were a bright crimson now and which tremblingly contracted and yawned in the most uncontrollable and salacious fashion, her thighs were deliciously rounded and mature, and her calves were saucily highset with rippling and very agile muscles. She was altogether extremely desirable, and the eyes of the Castilian maid-understandably, since Inez was a thorough Lesbian-fixed greedily on the naked body of the sobbing girl.
Arthur Fenwick stood there like a robot, powerless to speak or to halt the incredible subjugation, the imperious and degrading victory which his wife and her secret Lesbian lover had achieved in so short a time over all three of his daughters. He watched Inez and Mavis dress poor little Phyllis in a corselet exactly like those which her sisters already wore, fix her arms in cross with the gyved yardstick, and push her over to the third post beside her sisters, where a little hook fitted into one of the rings along the yardstick and so posed her there in shame and servitude.
"We shall excuse the girls from school tomorrow, Arturito," Mavis decided. "I'll write a note explaining that an important family matter has come up. This night of meditation will do them a world of good, so that will retain the impression of the first lesson. Now come along, Arturito, my maid Inez will look after them. Besides, you and I have an accounting all our own!"
She crossed over to him slowly, her eyes shining with gloating triumph. And she took hold of his elbow. His throat was dry and he could not speak. He felt himself trembling, and the aura of compulsion which radiated from her gleamingly sheathed body, from her svelte and supple form, from her eyes and lips-and most of all indescribably, fatally, the subtle aroma which came from the gleaming kid itself!-had turned him into a slave who could not ... and would not if he could ... avert the degradation of his own beautiful young daughters!
In the connubial bedroom, a few minutes later, Arthur Fenwick knelt before his corselet-sheathed imperious bride, once more reaffirmed the imponderable triumph of his servitude to her, she the mistress of leather and of kid, of the chastising whip, and of embraces and caresses so perfidious that they had robbed him of his very soul.
Naked, he knelt before her, his hands reverently squeezing her buttocks, as he pressed his mouth to her cunt. He had drawn the zipper of the corselet and exposed the thick black tufts of pussyhair, and she was lecturing him as she would a child: "I am not pleased with you at all, Arturito! The very next time you defy my authority in front of the girls, I have a mind to make Inez take you across her lap, yes, great big man that you are, take down your trousers and your shorts, and spank your naked bottom with her gloved hand, do you understand me?"
"Yes, M-Mistress," he quavered. His voice was muffled for his lips were against the jasmine-scented curls of her pussyfur.
"Very well. I will forgive you this one time, because it is true that it must have been startling to you to find out how naughty your girls had been all these years and to have them brought up short almost overnight. But you'll give me free rein with them, Arturito, and in return you will be the happiest of husbands."
"I know."
"I am glad you realize this, my darling. Now you may gamahuch me, Arturito dearest. Very slowly and delicately, the way you know I want you to do it. The tip of your tongue around the rim of the lips. And then very gently and gradually, in between the lips until at last you find the little button which is the key to my emotions. Begin, my dear one!"
There, in that bedroom where once his gentle Clara had shivered in the darkness in his manly embrace, he mounted atop her and thrusting vigorously home his prick in the joyous exuberance of conjugal love, Arthur Fenwick performed the oral sex ritual by which he bound himself infrangibly to this strange and exotic woman of whose past he knew so little, but who had in such an incredibly short span of time taken over his daughters and himself as assuredly as she had meant to do from the very outset.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mavis Fenwick was as good as her word. The very next evening at the dinner table, while the Castilian maid Inez served the repast while secretly gloating over the embarrassed discomfiture of the three lovely sisters, the svelte brunette stepmother coldly informed the girls that henceforth they would be graded on a demerit basis from Friday through the following Thursday. Each error, each insolent spoken word or deed, each indication of slovenliness or untidiness, would draw a given number of black marks. Then after supper on the following Friday night, these demerits would be written off via punishments, depending upon the number of those marks and the graveness of the faults committed.
In some instances, naughtiness would be punished by bondage and penance, such as being forced to walk on towering high heels, while balancing a book on the head and wearing a tight leather or kid corselet, with arms gyved to the heavy wooden yardstick, and with the further bondage of a blindfold and gag.
In such cases where this kind of penitence was imposed, the dropping of this book during the punishment time (which could last from fifteen minutes to an hour, again depending on the gravity of the sentence), would authorize Inez to switch the offender's calves and thighs with a thin hickory withe. If the culprit dropped the book more than ten times during the course of her penance, she would be obliged to bend over and submit to a dozen spanks from the paddle.
But what absolutely flabbergasted the three lovely sisters was their father's placid acceptance of this incredibly despotic regimen dictated by their implacable stepmother, who showed them little affection and spoke always severely and gravely, with hardly a smile.
What none of them could guess to be sure, was that Arthur Fenwick was so hopelessly enamored of his beautiful mature wife that the mere idea of losing the delicious and perverse pleasures of the bed which she had taught him so late in life was absolutely calamitous ... and for this reason, forsaking his ethics and his integrity, he became like a blinded adolescent, avid only to win Mavis's favor and to taste the supreme delicacies which fetishism bondage, voluptuous flagellation and, of all else the cult of leather and of kid had wakened in his virile nature.
Mavis Fenwick knew with certainty that she had established a sexual servitude over her older and totally infatuated husband; that the pleasures of her body and those of the artificial stimulants such as the leather and the kid, the voyeurism of witnessing his own lovely daughters lasciviously undressed and then spanked like children, had the power of an aphrodisiac upon his carnal senses. In this wise, Mavis had all the cunning of the great Viennese Empress Maria Theresa who, when her husband did not agree with her on many matters of state, simply had her bed rolled away on casters into another room and denied him access, a policy which unfailingly brought about his capitulation to her wishes.
So when Arthur Fenwick hesitatingly stammered that he thought perhaps she was being a mite too strict on his daughters, and Mavis would draw herself up to her full height and smile coldly at him and say, "Arturito, you've been without a wife for ten years, you see. Your judgement is prejudiced. I admire and respect your love for the girls, but they have already shown some very anti-social tendencies which we simply as parents cannot let continue, or they will not be valuable citizens when they are adult and ready to take their place in the world. I know it seems hard, my darling, but to be cruel is to be kind."
And then she would come to him, and he would smell her perfume, and she would put her gloved hand on the back of his neck and kiss him lightly on the forehead and murmur, "If you're very good, I'll be 'specially nice to you tonight, darling, when we're alone together. You can undress me all naked and fuck me just the way you want to, and for once I won't wear my bodysheath, I promise."
And thus Arthur Fenwick was trapped by the urge of the flesh which Mavis so cunningly incited.
And so the first Friday of reckoning came, for these three girls who until the advent of this svelte brunette imperatrix, had never known anything but affection and indulgence.
At the supper table, after the dessert and coffee-the girls were all served milk, even Ardith, despite her age and the imminent approach of a formal engagement that was going to lead to marriage by fall-Mavis stared with a faint smile at her three stepdaughters and then glanced commandingly at her husband at the other end of the table. "You will recall, girls," she announced with an expression of austerity and righteousness, "that I established a demerit system last week. Inez and I have been very careful to give you every chance and not to penalize you too much for an inadvertent fault. However, I'm afraid that I have come upon two instances of untidiness and insubordination which simply cannot be tolerated. Inez, my dear, will you please read from your notes."
Phyllis, Joan and Ardith stared at one another, with consternation, and then all three simultaneously looked at their father as if they expected his intervention on their behalf. But he had lowered his eyes, and was very silent. Despairingly the girls knew that they couldn't look to him longer for support, and that henceforth in this household they would be under the unrelenting aegis of their stepmother.
Inez Corduba cleared her throat impressively and stared around the table at the three delicious muchachas, anticipating the tyrannical joys she and her beloved mistress were soon going to experience with these helpless victims. "First, Senora Mavis," she intone, "there is Phyllis, who has five black marks for throwing her clothes about in her room after she has been told so often, and then for going over to her girl friend's for lunch without bothering herself to tell me so that it was necessary for me to prepare her lunch, only to find that it was wasted."
"That was very thoughtless of you, my dear," Mavis smiled benignly at the lovely redhead. "I think Inez has been very fair. I myself, in the weeks ahead if I find you still guilty of such mistakes, would give you at least ten demerits. Let that be a warning to you, Phyllis. And what else, Inez?"
"Then there is the Senorita Ardith-" Inez began.
"Oh no! Oh, Daddy, please, please don't let them do it to me! It's a disgrace, it's so shameful, I'm nineteen, Daddy, not a child!" the beautiful brunette, tears of humiliation in her eyes, turned imploringly towards her father.
"Be careful, Ardith," her stepmother warned. "You should know by now that your father is in complete accord with my arrangements for this family, isn't that so, Arthur?"
"Yes, my dear," he said in a low trembling voice, averting his eyes from the despairingly appealing, exquisite face of his oldest daughter.
"Very well, Ardith. I trust that will answer your question. Go ahead, Inez."
"The Senorita Ardith," the Castilian woman resumed with glowing eyes and a sensual smile on her red mouth, "was impertinent to me again on Tuesday. I asked her where she was going, and she said for a walk and that it was not my business and that she was grownup enough to take a walk if she wished. For that I gave her ten demerits."
"That's unfair! And I didn't say it in just those words," Ardith protested, and now the tears were really sparkling in her beautiful eyes.
"Silence, Ardith! I think that ten demerits are quite justified in this case. And what about Joan, Inez dear?"
"She had only three demerits."
The tall slim seventeen-year-old honey-haired beauty uttered an audible sigh of relief.
"Nonetheless," the dominatress declared, "you are going to watch the punishment of your sisters, because it will be a very efficacious lesson for you. You were fortunate, Joan, that Inez was very tolerant this week. But I myself noticed that you are still very slovenly about your room. Be careful, or perhaps next week may find you on the demerit list and sentenced to chastisement. All right, girls, you will follow Inez and me to the recreation room. Arthur, I expect you to preside as well. It still seems that your daughters haven't accepted me fully as their mother, and keep asking you to appeal in their behalf. I wish you present when this occurs, as I'm sure it will, to confirm my authority."
"Yes, Mavis, of course," Arthur Fenwick stammered as he rose from the table.
Once down in the basement, the three lovely daughters of Arthur Fenwick trembled and eyed one another with growing apprehension. "You shall be first since you are the youngest, Phyllis," Mavis decided. "For five demerits, you shall have an over-the-lap spanking on your naked bottom with the hairbrush and Inez will administer it. You will go to her now, kneel down and ask her humbly to punish you, and then you will get the hairbrush and give it to her and prepare yourself."
"Pre-prepare myself, M-M-Mother?" the redhead quavered. The girls had all been told that they must henceforth address her as "Mother" or be subject to additional demerits. In a "council of war" during the night after this new regime of demerits had been announced to them, all three girls had been almost ready to revolt. But Ardith had hopelessly reminded them that all of them were still minors and under their father's jurisdiction, and that if he went along with their stepmother, there was little they could do except to avoid punishment by earnest effort-however much it made them unhappy, to comply with Mavis Fenwick's despotic wishes.
Charming Phyllis was very red in the face as she walked over slowly towards Inez and then slowly knelt down. "PI-please, Inez, will you-will you give me a sp-spanking with the h-hairbrush?" she faltered.
"Segura, Senorita Phyllis." The Castilian woman smiled. But you must tell me where."
"That is correct, Phyllis!" the dominatress interposed in a glacial tone. "Tell her exactly where you wish the spanking to be applied and how. I think you understand me. If you don't, we can always increase your punishment."
"Oh no, M-Mother!" Phyllis groaned, her lovely gray-green eyes sparkling with tears, "I-I'll say it! Inez, pi-please give me a sp-spanking with the h-hairbrush on my bb--bare bb-bottom."
"That is better," Mavis mockingly commented.
"Very well, Senorita Phyllis," Inez agreed. "You will get it for me, if you please."
The Castilian woman seated herself on the heavy low footstool and waited while the scarlet-faced young redhead went over to the oaken chest in one corner of the spacious room, and slowly picked up an oval-shaped black wooden hairbrush from the many articles of fustigation and bondage accessories which filled the heavy chest. Slowly, head bowed, she returned, she returned towards Inez, and proffered the hairbrush, her lips trembling convulsively.
"Thank you, Senorita Phyllis. And now if you will prepare yourself, I shall be glad to grant your request," Inez ironically remarked.
Phyllis was wearing a pullover sweater, a short brown rayon skirt which ended about two and a half inches above her delightfully dimpled bare knees, yellow bobby socks and loafers. During the week, Mavis had reminded her three stepdaughters that in the event of punishment on Friday, and as a further proof of their submission to her authority, when they were sentenced to punishment, they would be required to prepare themselves. She had gone into some detail on this ceremonial which of course, was part of the sensual ritual of complete subjugation which she intended to impose on the entire family.
Now that the moment of truth was at hand, Phyllis began to sob wholeheartedly, as she saw Inez seated on the low stool, hairbrush in hand, regarding her with an ironic smile.
"Quickly, Phyllis, or am I to take it that you are going to resist?" her stepmother tauntingly intervened.
"Oh, Oh, Daddy!" the redheaded teenager sobbed brokenly, glancing heart renderingly at her father, who stood against one wall, his arms folded, his face flushed, trembling with the perverse aura of voluptuous domination which his beautiful enigmatic wife had inculcated in his psyche as in his flesh.
"You had better obey your mother, my dear," he said in a hoarse voice.
With a groan, the tears running down her cheeks, which were scarlet with shame, the young redhead fumbled with her skirt and drew it up as well as the nylon petticoat beneath, exposing her delightfully fleshy rounded buttocks tightly snugged in a pair of light cotton panties. Then she hesitated, bursting into choking sobs again, until Mavis interposed once more: "Why are you waiting, Phyllis? Pull your panties down to your knees and then get over Inez's lap at once!"
The unhappy young redhead's sobs increased, but under the threat implicit in Mavis's stern voice, she managed to hold up the skirt and petticoat with her left arm while with her right hand she dragged the panties down to her knees. Then, bursting into childish sobs and tears, she laid herself down across the Castilian woman's lap. The low footstool made it necessary for her to balance herself by extending her arms and placing her palms flat down on the hard stone floor, while the toes of her loafers dug frantically from the other side to sustain balance. Inez circled the girl's waist with her left arm, making certain that the upthrust skirt and petticoat were tightly pressed against the victim's back to prevent their descent, and then lifted the hairbrush slowly over the tightening round creamy bottomcheeks. Phyllis frantically clutched her thighs together and contracted her muscles in an attempt to diminish the most intimate area of her charming person.
"I'm ready to begin, Senorita Phyllis. I am not going to put my leg over yours to hold you in position, for I think you will wish to be obedient in front of your father and your sisters, no es verdad?" Inez sa-voringly remarked.
"Y-yes, I-I-Inez. Only PI-please, d-do it quickly and get it over with, please!" Phyllis's voice was choked with sobs and very low.
Her head was bowed, and her lovely young body upreared spectacularly, thanks to the posture of the Castilian executioner and the low footstool on which she seated herself. Tightening her grip on the girl's bare side, Inez began to spank very slowly. The first few blows from the smooth-surfaced back of the hairbrush fell crisply and at about twenty seconds apart, first right cheek, then left, on the plumpest curves where the flesh was the most resilient. The humiliation of this and her awareness of being thus undressed in front of her father and sisters and being chastised by a maid made Phyllis sob and squirm, but as yet there was no real pain and she was able to control the maneuvers of her body.
But after a dozen such tingling smacks, Inez paused, shifted the grasp of her left hand towards the edge of Phyllis's naked right hip, and then began to spank in earnest. Now the hairbrush rose and fell on the still alternating and the huddling, squirming creamy hemispheres, at a cadence of about five seconds between spanks, and Inez concentrated on the lower summits and the base of the redhead's naked bottom.
The difference was soon appreciable to the lovely red-haired teenager. She began to squeal and to groan and sob, glancing feverishly back at the Castilian woman, and her hands clenched into fists where they pressed down on the stone floor, while her pretty feet kicked up from time to time, until about the thirtieth spank. This blow, particularly hard and bridging the inner surface of both rounded globes just above the base, drew a piercing "AHRRRROWWW!! OH PLEASE, INEZ, I'LL BE GOOD, PLEASE DON'T SPANK SO HARD, IT HURTS ME AWFULLY!"
But Inez, deaf to the young girl's pleas, brought the hairbrush down with even more emphasis on the very same place, and this time poor Phyllis kicked up both her legs and brushed one hand back towards her bottom in a piteous effort to shield it from the burning caresses of the black wooden hairbrush.
"Joan, go kneel in front of your sister and hold her wrists! Phyllis, if you don't stay in position, I will ask your father to give you the strap after you've had the hairbrush from Inez," Mavis pronounced.
Joan Fenwick, red in the face, trembling with anguish, really angish for her sister's plight, walked over towards the stool, knelt down and took Phyllis's wrists in her hands, whispering, "Be brave, honey, you have to!" Inez meanwhile resumed the spanking. But this time she first made poor weeping Phyllis arch her body up a little while she swiftly slid her right leg out from under the girl and then clamped it over Phyllis's ankles, thus totally pinioning her.
Now the hairbrush rose and fell very swiftly, with hardly more than a second or two between spanks, visiting the entire area of both flaming bottomcheeks; and Phyllis began to cry out, to twist and wriggle frantically, her hips arching and tossing like a cork in an angry sea. The blazing fire of the hairbrush left the lower curves of her naked behind furiously darkened and inflamed and in all, Inez must have given the poor girl some sixty spanks before she at last paused and breathlessly said, "Very well, Senorita Phyllis. Now you will get down on your knees and thank me for spanking you and kiss the hairbrush and the hand that used it on your naughty bottom!"
And Phyllis, unconcerned now with her panties dangling about her ankles, trembling violently, tears flooding her swollen face, had to perform that degrading ritual before that Castilian servant while her stepmother smiled, hands on hips, practically staring poor Phyllis into obedience by the compulsion of her magnetic gaze ... the same gaze that had made Arthur Fenwick an obsessed and adoring slave....
After Phyllis had tearfully thanked Inez for the spanking and kissed the hand that had wielded it on her flaming bottom, she was ordered to stand in the corner and hold up her skirt and petticoat, the panties still clinging about her angles, in penance. And now it was Ardith's turn.
The beautiful nineteen-year-old brunette wrung her hands in feverish supplication when she heard Mavis consign her to the very same humiliating chastisement, with the addition that she would undergo an hour of bondage.
Ardith, trying very hard to be brave, her face pale and taut, trying not to look at the smirking Inez, hoisted up skirt and petticoat, rucked them high over her waist and pinned them with her left arm, and then dragged down her white nylon panties to her knees without even being bidden, once Mavis had coldly informed her that her time had come to submit to the hairbrush. Since Inez already had the hairbrush in hand, it was not necessary for Ardith to go to the chest to procure it ... but even here the exotic imperatrix added a nuance of sadistic humiliation for the beautiful brunette.
"I must compliment you, Ardith, on your alacrity to anticipate an order in preparing yourself," she drawled. "But now you'll ask Inez very humbly for a good spanking. You'll kneel down before her and ask her, and you'll describe where and how you are to get it. Begin, Ardith!"
Shuddering, gritting her teeth to keep from denouncing her tyrannical stepmother, the beautiful older daughter of Arthur Fenwick dully stammered, "Pl-please, Inez, I-I beg to give me a-a sp-spanking on my bb-bare s-seat with the h-hairbrush."
"I will be glad to, Senorita Ardith," said the sadistic Castilian woman. "Place yourself across my lap then, and get ready for it."
And so poor Ardith Fenwick had to lay herself across Inez's lap and press her palms down on the cold stone floor and dig the toes of her pumps into the floor on the other side to balance herself. Miserably aware of the shamefulness of her half-naked posture in front of her father and sisters and, worst of all, before the cruel servant and her domineering stepmother, Ardith closed her eyes and tensed herself. To humble the older girl, Inez prolonged the "preparation" by rolling up the skirt and petticoat almost to Ardith's shoulderblades, and then, laying the hairbrush down on the small of Ardith's creamy naked back, she began to unfasten the stocking tabs of the white satin elastic garterbelt. Ardith uttered a stifled cry: "Ohh-please finish it, please!"
"The garterbelt will be in the way, Senorita Ardith. I want to spank all of your big bottom," was Inez's cruel reply. She now unfastened the garterbelt and let it drop to the floor. Then her left arm curved tightly around Ardith's naked waist, and, retrieving the hairbrush and tapping one lovely naked hip lightly and lingeringly to intimate that the chastisement was about to begin, she intoned, "I'm going to begin, Senorita. I hope you will stay in position, as you are going to be spanked very hard, you know."
Ardith groaned and bowed her head still lower, keeping her eyes very tightly shut, but she could not control the rippling spasms which came and went along her lovely thighs, sheathed in dark-brown nylon hose which had begun to sag a little now that the garterbelt had been removed.
Inez began the spanking as mildly and as slowly as she had with Phyllis, who was still sobbing in the corner. Ardith ground her teeth to keep from uttering the slightest sound that would give her stepmother and this wretched servant the least satisfaction. But after about fifteen light but stinging spanks, Inez paused, pushed up the rucked-up garments even higher, resumed an even tighter hold around the naked waist of her mature young charge, and then, once again picking the hairbrush off the small of Ardith's deliciously hollowed creamy back, began to bring it down with vehement cracks all over the spacious and magnificently contoured naked nether globes.
Ardith tried her best to remain stoic under this barrage, clutching her thighs together, sometimes crossing one ankle over the other. But by the time the thirty-second spank visited her now furiously crimsoned hind quarters, she uttered a sobbing groan and twisted and jerked convulsively.
Instantly Inez stopped, put the hairbrush back down on the small of the girl's back, slid her right leg out from under Ardith, clapped it over the girl's stockinged calves, and then resumed. Vindictively she made the spanks even harder, sometimes repeating four or five in the very same spot, for the exact purpose of breaking down the heroic older girl's morile and resistance. And in this she succeeded.
By the time the count had reached fifty, Ardith was sobbing like a child and glancing back at Inez and clasping her hands in front of her and finally begging Inez to have her pardoned and remit any further punishment.
But sixty spanks in all were laid over that magnificent naked posterior, and then poor Ardith trembling violently, her legs shaking beneath her, was obliged to get off, to kneel down and to thank Inez, kiss the hairbrush and the hand of the wielder. The next order was even worse for her modesty, for Mavis bade her take off all her clothes. And Arthur Fenwick stood trembling, his eyes glassy with a secret and subtle lust, as he saw his beautiful nineteen-year-old daughter stark naked before him, her magnificent bottom a dark and ominous and swollen red from a juvenile hairbrush spanking. They put the one-piece corselet on Ardith, and the constriction of the kid against her swollen bottom made her burst into hysterical sobs as Inez now swiftly drew up the black nylon hose on her lovely legs, attaching them with little silver clasps to the hems of the corselet, and then made her put her feet into four-and-a-half-inch heeled black kid pumps. Once more the gyved yardstick was forced between her wrists, her arms out in cross, and Ardith was made to totter towards one of the wooden posts, where the ring in the yardstick fitted to one of the little hooks in the post of penitence. There she was left for an hour, while Joan and Phyllis and Arthur Fenwick went back upstairs. Phyllis was sent to bed to meditate. And thus the regime of the dominatress which had prevailed in the perverse private school at Nogales, had begun at the house of Arthur Fenwick.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
On the following Friday, pretty honey-haired Joan Fenwick was called to reckoning by her domineering stepmother over an argument with Inez concerning an errand to the grocery store which the pretty seventeen-year-old teenager had been asked to perform. Joan had made a mistake and brought back the wrong brand of a staple item; and when Inez had requested that she exchange it, Joan had irritatedly stamped her foot and said that she didn't know what the difference was between brands.
In spite of her supplications to her father, Joan was sentenced to punishment which called for a good hard manual spanking on her bare behind and then half an hour marching in a tight corselet with her arms gyved in a cross by the yardstick and with a book balanced atop her pretty head.
This time again, Phyllis also was in disgrace for having broken a soup tureen while helping Inez wash the dishes only the night before. And when Inez had taunted her, "That is going to cost your big bottom a hard spanking, I will bet you, muchacha," the red-haired fifteen-year-old girl had stamped her foot and expostulated angrily over this needling-which, needless to say, was deliberately done to draw the tempera mental adolescent into an argument that would call for punishment.
Tall slim blonde Joan was told to wait until after Phyllis had had her spanking, and it was a shameful ordeal indeed for the lovely seventeen-year-old daughter of Arthur Fenwick. Phyllis this time had to bring the hairbrush from the chest and lift up her skirt and petticoat high above her waist, drag her panties down to her knees, and lay across Inez's lap while the latter seated herself on the low flat punishment bench. Once again Arthur Fenwick was present to supervise, and he could not keep his eyes from his young daughter's naked bottom, especially, when, under the stinging blows of the hairbrush, poor Phyllis twisted and kicked and wriggled so wildly that the dark-red silky thatch of her virgin cunt showed. Mavis was well aware of this incestuous stimulation, but it was one of her subtle carnal holds upon the banker to compel him to accept willingly all the subjugation and humiliation which she was imposing on his three lovely girls.
Because Phyllis flung herself off Inez's lap midway through a very hard spanking, Mavis promptly sentenced her to have half an hour in bondage also, to be executed during the same time while poor Joan marched with the book atop her head.
And then Ardith was required to come forward, sit down on the end of the bench and hold Phyllis's wrists while the Castilian maid concluded the hairbrush spanking with a dozen furious and slowly spaced swats, fixed to each blazing buttock, concentrating all the blows to the curve of the tender summits. Phyllis's screams for mercy were deafening and it was all Inez could do to keep her in place, with her arm around the victim's body and her own right leg locking over the girl's bare calves.
Arthur Fenwick bit his lips, wanting to protest the severity with which these lovely young teenagers were being punished. But a steely glance from Mavis kept him silent. His own sensual bondage had increased, for last Friday night, after he had witnessed the punishment of Ardith and Phyllis, his beautiful brunette wife had enchanted him in bed by wearing only black mesh opera-length hose with purple garters and maddening him by performing soixante-neuf with him before she finally flung herself atop him and impaled herself on his swollen cock.
He was her bondservant through flesh and the madness and despotism of that flesh and all the nuances of sadism which this imaginative and perverse mature brunette knew how to exercise against him.
Once her spanking had been finished and poor weeping Phyllis was kneeling down on the floor and kissing Inez's hand and the hairbrush and thanking her for the good spanking, she was required to stand in the corner facing the wall, holding up her petticoat and skirt, but this time her panties were completely removed.
Then it was Joan's turn to come forward for the handspanking from the hand of the servant, which was degradation enough in itself to the precocious mind of the lovely honey-haired adolescent. And again the ritual was performed: Joan was required to hoist slip and skirt, tug down her panties with one hand, wriggling salaciously to do so, and stretch herself out over the bench, clasping her hands in front of her. At least the severity of having her entire body cushioned by the punishment bench was some slight compensation for this humiliating chastisement. But the Castilian woman prolonged the preparations by pushing up the outer garments almost to Joan's armpits, calmly tucking her left arm around Joan's bare side, and then passing her right palm over the flinching quivering and tightening naked cheeks of Joan's carnation-tinted, oval-contoured bottom.
Joan was determined not to cry, but Inez purposely prolonged the handspanking to about seventy slaps. At about the fiftieth, the victim broke and she began to kick her lovely legs, and finally to weep and to put back her lovely hand to cover up her flaming seat. So Ardith was called again to hold her sister's wrists until the spanking was finally over. Then both Phyllis and Joan had to strip naked and put on the one-piece body-sheaths, the gauzy hose which fixed with silver clamps to the hems of the corselet, highheeled pumps and then befettered with their arms posed in a cross by means of the gyved yardsticks. A book was placed atop Joan's head, and she was blindfolded and a rubber gag inserted into her mouth. A bandana was bound over this and knotted at the back of her neck. Inez then picked up a long slim and wickedly subtle hickory switch while Joan marched to the ticking of an old fashioned alarm clock. After a minute, the book fell, and Inez gloatingly drew back her switch and whisked it sharply across Joan's right upper thigh, drawing a muffled groan from the unhappy girl who pranced from pump to pump under the biting kiss of the switch.
Before her half hour was over, the honey-haired culprit had received about twenty cuts over her calves and thighs, and was weeping like a child by the time she was released. Phyllis was obliged to stand for another half hour at the post while Inez remained in the basement to liberate her when the time was up and the two other girls and Arthur Fenwick and his wife Mavis returned upstairs.
On the third Friday, Joan fell victim again because of failure to ask permission to visit her girlfriend and then arguing with Inez who had chided her for such negligence. Ardith and Phyllis were by this time free of demerits, but they had to watch the punishment anyway. Weeping bitterly, Joan again lofted her outer garments, lowered her panties and again went across Inez's lap, but this time for a good hard spanking with a leather paddle which lasted fifty stinging swats long and so overcame her pride and stoicism that it was necessary for both of her sisters to hold her wrists and ankles while Inez concluded the punishment with deliberate slowness.
This time Joan was put in penitence for an hour, forced to stand at the post in the ridiculously shameful attire of the corselet with the gyved yardstick spreading her arms apart in the form of a penitential cross. And after each one of these punishment sessions, Mavis gave herself to her husband with such ingenious and imaginative passion that the mature banker fell further into the abyss of utter unconcern about the suffering and the martyrdom of his three beautiful daughters....
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bob Grantham, Ardith Fenwick's handsome fiance, had telephoned her for a date on the last Thursday of the month, and Ardith had joyously agreed to go out with him the following Friday evening. She had asked her father if she might have dinner with her fiance and he of course agreed. But, as we shall see, fate once again intervened to shame the beautiful nineteen-year-old brunette in a way that was at last to turn the tables.
On the previous Saturday night, Ardith, since she had not been punished that previous week, had been permitted to go to a dance with the personable young law clerk who had just passed his bar exams and was looking forward to his first job and also, as he told his blushing sweetheart, their marriage. "You know, Ardie," he told her, "lately I feel as if I have done something to displease you. You just don't seem to be as interested in me as you used to. Now that I've got my shingle as a bona-fide lawyer, I'll start practicing at once and we can scrimp a bit and manage so we can be together-that is if you still want to marry me."
"Oh, I do, I do, my darling," Ardith blushingly breathed, "but-but, well, things have been sort of rugged since Dad married. You know-I told you."
"Certainly, but what's that got to do with the question?" Bob Grantham impatiently asked.
"Well, Bob the fact is that M-Mother is a very strict woman, and she sets curfew on all us girls and we can't date as much as we used to. Take my sister Joan, for instance. She's been dating Cal Tolliver ever since she started high school but she hasn't been able to see him since M-Mother got back from the honeymoon. And Cal right now, from what Joan tells me, is dating a silly brainless little sexpot, and she's just brokenhearted."
"I don't understand it. My God, Ardie, you're nineteen, you're old enough to know your own mind and to do what you want."
Ardith Fenwick hardly dared to tell her handsome young fiance that she was still being spanked on her bare bottom like a girl of six. She merely gulped and tried to change the subject.
* * *
But on this monumental Friday, as she was dressing in her room, there was a knock on the door and her stepmother entered. Ardith whirled, dressed in just her slip, bra and panties. Her garterbelt and charcoal brown nylons lay on the bed, ready to be put on after she had finished her makeup.
"Are you going somewhere this evening, Ardith?" Mavis blandly inquired.
"Yes, M-Mother, erer Bob Grantham is taking me out to a dance tonight."
"I see. I don't think you've asked my permission yet, have you?"
"I-I-I'm sorry, M-M-Mother. I meant to, I told Dad and he said-and he said-"
"Apparently the lesson you had earlier this month didn't sink in very well, Ardith," Mavis said. "Friday nights are out unless I know by that morning that Inez hasn't marked down any demerits for any one of you. And you have a few demerits this week, Ardith, whether you know it or not."
"But I can't have!" Ardith flared.
"I'm sorry, but you do. This noon, didn't you run up the stairs to your room and bump into Inez?"
"Why yes, but I apologized-" Ardith was utterly dumbfounded.
"Apparently not sufficiently enough to suit Inez, my dear. She's given you five demerits. A sound spanking on the bare bottom with the hairbrush, as I recall."
"Oh, Mother, that isn't fair at all!" Ardith exploded. "Bob asked me to marry him and I'm going to next month, so there! You don't have any right-"
"Be careful, young lady, or you'll not go out with him this evening at all. Now apologize at once for this outburst of temper which is so childish!"
Ardith bit her lips, surpressing her furious revolt. She realized the danger. And so humbly, bowing her head, she stammered an apology.
Mavis Fenwick smiled cruelly, "Very well, my dear, since you have apologized and I feel lenient and your conduct has been better these past few weeks, I will make you this concession. Instead of having you eat supper with your sisters and your father and then listen to the punishment list, you may have your spanking here and now, and in that way you will be able to go out to dinner with your fiance."
Ardith wrung her hands in her atrocious dilemma, her face red with shame. Then she faintly stammered her thanks for this concession and her willingness to accept this punishment.
"You will go call Inez from the kitchen, Ardith, and we shall both go down to the basement. Remember, I expect you to be submissive, and the least show of temper will cost you your date with your young man."
Her face blazing with shame, Ardith Fenwick went to the kitchen and, seeing her arch-enemy Inez, began to shiver with mingled rancor and humiliation. "Yes, Senorita Ardith? Do you wish something?" Inez asked ingenuously.
"I-I just asked M-Mother if I might have my punishment now instead of tonight because-because I have a date, Inez. She said I should come to you and ask-ask you please to g-give me my sp-spanking now."
"Very well, Senorita Ardith, I will be very happy to grant your request. So you are going out with your young novio, are you? Well, if you are a good girl and do not move about too much, I will try not to make it too uncomfortable for you this evening when you are out with him. Otherwise, of course, you would have to tell him why you find it so hard to sit down, no es ver-dad?" Inez sarcastically taunted the helpless brunette.
Hopelessly resigned to her shameful fate, Ardith Fenwick followed her stepmother and the Castilian woman down the stairs to the basement.
"This time, to show your good will, Ardith, I wish you to take off every stitch of clothing you have on and then to go get the hairbrush, crawl on your knees to Inez, and ask her humbly to apply it to your big naughty bottom," Mavis Fenwick arrogantly decreed.
Ardith was red with shame to her very earlobes as she fumbled with her clothes and finally stood naked on the cold stone floor of the basement. Procuring the black wooden hairbrush from the oaken desk, she sank down on her knees and crawled towards Inez, who had taken her place on the low footstool over which she had previously spanked Phyllis several Friday nights before. Arrived before the Castilian woman, Ardith haltingly stammered in a faint voice, "Please, Inez, here's the h-hairbrush for you to sp-spank my bbottom with."
"Thank you, Senorita," Inez replied as she took the hairbrush from the trembling hand of the brunette. "You may put yourself in position now for your spanking."
At least, Ardith consoled herself, the penance of undressing had not been prolonged and cruel this time since she had not been fully dressed and it had been relatively easy to remove her slip, then her bra and panties. But the thought of being at nineteen and practically married, forced to strip stark naked and to lay herself across the lap of Inez on this low footstool in the most ridiculous of postures made tears glisten in her lovely eyes as she slowly rose and swiftly placed herself in position, being forced to put her palms down on the bare floor and to thrust her toes down on the other side to balance herself. Her naked, spaciously curved creamy mature posterior rippled and flexed with uncontrollable tremors from her emotional agitation. Grinding her teeth and compressing her lips very tightly as well as closing her eyes, Ardith abandoned herself. And once again the sadistic Castilian servant did not hurry to begin. She adjusted her left arm around the girl's waist half a dozen times before satisfying herself as to the tightness of her grip, all the while she kept the hairbrush lying on the small of Ardith's naked back. Her right hand now grazed the quivering and palpitating creamy cheeks of the condemned bottom, and it was all Ardith could do to keep from begging Inez to hurry and get it over with-a petition which, moreover, would have been very risky under the circumstances.
Finally the first smack fell, stingingly and noisily over the base of the right buttock, to be followed a full thirty seconds later, a most agonizing pause, to fall on the left globe in exactly the same place. It was an atrocious spanking, and the worst of it was that it was so deliberately prolonged. Ardith received thirty-five blows in all, but it took nearly twenty minutes before the final one fell. And well before that, she was crying like a child, her hands covering her scarlet tearstained face, nor could she control the spasmodic kicking of one bare foot or the other or sometimes both when the wooden hairbrush made its ferociously stinging impact on her tender, reddening flesh.
Then to cap her shame, she was obliged to kneel down to kiss the hand of Inez as well as the hairbrush and to thank the Castilian woman for having taken the time to administer the punishment so well ahead of time.
Ardith went upstairs when at last released by her stepmother and soaked her face in a bowl of cold water and then put Murine in her eyes to hide the fact from Bob that she had been crying. Her bottom blazed and throbbed savagely, but the time was drawing close to the time Bob Grantham was going to call for her, and she didn't have much time to alleviate the pain. She finally decided to wear just a slip, garterbelt and stockings, bra and her pretty party chiffon dress and to eliminate panties or pantie girdle altogether for the sake of her bottom.
Nonetheless, Bob's attentive eyes noticed that she was squirming throughout the dinner at one of Comp-ton's finest restaurants. "Say, Ardie," he finally chuckled, "the way you're wriggling around, one would think you just had a spanking!"
Ardith Fenwick gasped, stared at him with widened eyes and then burst into helpless tears.
"Oh come on, honey,. I was only joking. I didn't mean it," he soothed her.
"But-but it's true, Bob. You don't know how ashamed I am!"
"What are you talking about?"
"That-that I did get a sp-spanking. Just before I came on our date."
"You're kidding! Nobody spanks a nineteen-year-old girl these days."
"My stepmother does, and so does her Spanish maid. Ever since Dad married her, it's been hell for all three of us girls. You don't know. I wouldn't dare begin to tell you."
"But I want you to. Look, honey, you're going to be my wife in about a month whether you like it or not, and if you don't tell me what's bothering you, I'll spank you myself and that's a promise."
Comforted by this tender solicitude, Ardith at last blushingly confessed-but left out the ritualistic details to which she and Joan and Phyllis had been subjected during the agonizing regime of Mavis Fenwick.
"I see," Bob Grantham grimly and curtly remarked when the story was finally finished. "I think I understand. I'm not quite the square you think I am, my darling.
Ardith hid her face in her hands and nodded, almost fainting with shame.
"I think, darling, you and I are going to pay your stepmother a little visit. But first I'm going to phone your father. I want to talk to him."
"What are you going to say? Oh my God, don't cause trouble-M-Mother will just make it terrible for me!" Ardith wailed.
"I can't make it any tougher than she already has, baby. But I think when I get through, she isn't going to make any trouble for anybody anymore."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bob Grantham was as good as his word. He telephoned Arthur Fenwick at the latter's house and the banker cordially greeted his prospective son-in-law.
"Look, Mr. Fenwick, I've just found out what Ardith has been going through the last couple of weeks, as well as her sisters."
"Now wait, Bob-"
"No, you wait, sir. Do you know what that woman is doing to you? From the description that Ardie gave me of her, I just happen to remember that some years back there was a big scandal down near the Mexican border about some private school run by a very severe and beautiful woman. It seems some rich old broad with some kookie ideas was backing the school and put this woman in charge of it. They got all sorts of very nice girls from good families down there to teach them to be ladies. But actually, the girls got taught how to get spanked and tied up and treated like slaves. Fact is, this woman had to beat it out of the state one step ahead of the sheriff, and I've got a pretty good idea that your present wife might just be that woman."
"You must be crazy, Bob, to come to me with a story like this!"
"I'm going to call the Sheriff at Nogales. It was quite infamous, I just happen to have a collection of erotic books, and when Ardith told me what her stepmother has been doing to her and the other girls, everything clicked together in my mind. I'm going to make a call to find out whether I'm right or wrong and then I'll let you know."
* * *
About an hour later, Bob Grantham got into his Buick with Ardith beside him. She was speechless with surprise after what he had just told her. "Now we're going to have a little confrontation, honey. It seems that the woman's name was Mavis Mortadore-that was her maiden name. They still want her down in Nogales on a couple of charges. And they gave me a pretty good description. It certainly sounds like your stepmother. Also, she had an assistant down there by the name of Inez Corduba."
"You see, it all jibes, honey. All right, we're going back home, and this time, when I leave I'll lay you odds it's going to be your home again."
About fifteen minutes later Bob Grantham rang the doorbell of the Fenwick house and Arthur Fenwick himself answered it. "I want to see you for just a few minutes, sir," the personable young attorney told him.
"If you're here with a crazy story such as you told me on the phone-" Arthur Fenwick began angrily.
"I've got some proof this time. Might I meet your wife?"
"Now what the devil-all right, I'm going to call your bluff and when we've finished with you I don't think that even Ardith will want to see you again," Arthur Fenwick said angrily.
"I'll take my chances."
At this moment Mavis Fenwick walked into the living room, magnificently and exotically beautiful in a clinging black satin housecoat with a long silver zipper and black high-heeled pumps. She was just about to go downstairs to the basement where poor Phyllis, who had been sentenced to a paddling on the bare bottom and then an hour and a half of bondage, was about to finish her sentence under the watchful eyes of Inez, who had been guarding the unhappy red-haired teenager with a stinging switch which she had liberally used on Joan's bare calves and thighs while the unhappy and weeping girl marched in corselet and high-heeled pumps with a book balanced atop her head.
"What's all this about, dear Arthur?" Mavis purred.
Bob Grantham stared coldly at her. "Didn't your maiden name happen to be Mortadore, Mrs. Fenwick?" he said.
Mavis Fenwick gulped, turned red, then turned to her husband. "I can explain everything," she said.
"So it's true, isn't it?" Bob Grantham triumphantly pursued. "You remember that school in Nogales, Mrs. Fenwick? Sheriff Dontzen tells me there is still a charge on the books against you, and against your maid Inez Corduba too. You see, after you left the state, they raided the home of your eccentric old angel, and they found all sorts of photographs, recordings and movies of you and the sort of things you and this maid of yours were doing to those girls. All of you got your kicks out of that, and then the old lady was going to work a shakedown racket later on. Only she had a heart attack and died, but before she did, according to the sheriff, she told him the whole story. So they're after you, Mrs. Fenwick."
"Arthur, you can't believe this wild improbable story-I'm your wife, Arthur!" Mavis babbled.
But as if by a miracle Arthur Fenwick's eyes were finally cleared for the first time since his sexual infatuation with the sexy brunette dominatress. And Mavis's reactions to the young attorney's charges showed him at last what kind of viper he had been harboring in the bosom of his family.
"I guess I was a fool," he said heavily. "Mavis, I'm going to bring charges against you for immoral treatment of my kids unless you agree to a divorce at once, and there won't be any settlement either. When I think of what you almost turned me into, I thank God that Bob here had the courage and the youth to see through all that was going on when I couldn't because it was right under my nose."
"Now surely we can work something out," Mavis purred seductively. "You know you love me. Don't listen to this boy-that's all he really is. What we have between us is so wonderful, you know you don't want to have it taken away from you." And she came to put her arms round the banker's neck, arching herself seductively against him, her crotch rubbing against his, hoping to win him back to her Circe-like domination by the call of the flesh.
But this time, Arthur Renwick was master of himself. Now that the miasma of sexual perversity had been cleared away, through the eyes of a third person, he had been made to see with what blind infatuation he had surrendered not only himself but also his three innocent virginal girls to Mavis's cruel and calculating depravities. And at that moment he hated himself the most of all for having to admit that he still lusted for her and that all the lewd and ritualistic joys she had taught him made him furiously randy ... why, even at this moment, feeling her arms round him, her cunt pressing intimately against his loins, her vibrant body clad only in the clinging housecoat, the smell of her jasmine perfume in his nostrils, he wanted to fuck her ... to see a beautiful young naked bottom wriggling and reddening under the hairbrush or paddle, while he watched and fucked Mavis, his rut being monumentally roused by the spectacle.
And yet he knew now he was dealing with a diabolically cunning sadist who, with her equally sensual accomplice Inez, would have ultimately robbed him of his manhood and made his three daughters actual slaves ... perhaps even taught them to service her and Inez with all the homage of Lesbian slave-love!
Her lips were inches from his, and her cunt was rubbing against his stiffening cock; her maddening, tantalizing appeal was like that of the Lorelei, those legendary maidens on the rocks of the Rhine whose siren call had lured many a sailor to his death ... like that of the sirens who had tried to draw Jason and his shipmates on the Argonaut into the fatal whirlpool. And he remembered with an effort what Jason had done so he might find the Golden Fleece-he had put wax into his ears and those of his companions that they would be deaf to the song of doom.
"Bob," his voice was hoarse and shuddering as his fingers dug into his palms, resisting the urge to embrace this perfidious beauty, to carry her to bed, to taste her kisses, to inhale the sacred kid and leather, even to feel her demeaning lash on his naked flesh as a canthartic stimulus to his lovemaking with her, "will you do me a favor?"
"Gladly."
"I think I'd like to give my ex-wife and her maid a taste of their own medicine for a change. Can I count on you to help me with them?"
"Arthur! Arturito!" Mavis gasped, desperately trying a last effort to regain her compulsive hold over her infatuated husband, seeing in a frightening glimpse all her powers shorn from her, "don't listen to him, my darling! He-he's just jealous over what we've got ... he'd like to take Ardith to bed, but he can't, so he invents all sorts of filthy lying stories-"
"That's enough, Mavis!" her husband seized her wrists and dragged her arms from round his neck. "I saw your reaction when he mentioned Nogales and your maiden name. It explains lots of things. And you haven't denied it all, either, I notice."
"But, darling, don't you see? People who don't understand the joys of true love would naturally act righteously puritanical about-" Mavis began.
"That's enough, Mavis," he interrupted almost savagely, "what Bob said about films and recordings and a blackmail racket makes me realize just how far you might have gone with all of us here. God, what a damn fool I've been, just because I had the hots for you. I ought to have wised up a long time ago, that first night when you took me downstairs and showed me how you'd fitted out the basement into a recreation room-a fine kind of recreation! And then seeing my own sweet girls beaten and tied up and made to wear those fetishistic outfits-no fool like an old fool! I should have just had you in bed but never married you, because I was so horny after ten years without it that I let my cock-yes, Mavis, don't blush, I said cock!-take over my brain! But it's over with. And before you leave here, Mavis Mortadore or Hausten or whatever your name really is, you and that servant of yours are going to get a little payment back on the account you've run up against Ardith, Joan, and Phyllis."
"Bob, how the hell do you know so much about this sort of thing, you just got out of law school?" Arthur Fenwick wonderingly asked.
The handsome young brown-haired attorney chuckled. "As I told Ardith, sir, I've had the hots too, but I've sublimated them by reading lots of books on the various little variations of going to bed. I picked up a magazine called Kicks a couple of weeks ago, and it was a sensation publication, yams about people like that Monica Van Cleef who ran a house in Newark, New Jersey to which guys came from all over the country to get tied up and whipped and dominated. And it had a story about Nogales and a mysterious black-haired young beauty who was in charge of a private girls' school endowed by a rich old dowager who got her kicks watching girls being spanked and tied up and humiliated." v
"My God," Mavis muttered, half to herself, "how did they find out?"
"Then it's true," Arthur Fenwick triumphantly exclaimed, noticing his exotic wife's guilty reaction.
"I'm sure it is, sir," Bob Grantham replied. "The long distance call I put in to Sheriff Dontzen really paid off. Fact is, he'd like us to have Mavis and her maid held here till he arranges for extradition to face those standing charges."
"Oh God, no, no, you shan't do that to me," Mavis furiously cried, her eyes flashing and her lips twisted in a vitriolic rictus as she backed away.
"I've no wish to involve myself and the bank and the good name of my girls in a dirty scandal," Arthur Fenwick said contemptuously. "But you're not going to leave this house without punishment, you and Inez."
"If I may suggest, sir," Bob Grantham smilingly intervened, "I think the girls would enjoy having a hand in it too-and I mean that literally."
"You young swine!" Mavis spat at him, "it's all your doing. I could kill you!"
"I know, Mrs. Fenwick, because you're jealous about my taking Ardith away from you forever. She didn't give me all the details-she was too ashamed to-but I could imagine what they were. Treating her like a child, humiliating her in front of Inez."
"Don't you talk about Inez that way, you dirty pig! What do you men know about the affection women can have for each other? Let me go-Arturito, I command you-oww, my wrist!"
For, his face dark with rage and shame at having been so cunningly duped almost at the cost of self-respect and his daughters' integrity, Arthur Fenwick had viciously slapped his beautiful brunette wife across the cheek and then seized her by a wrist. "Come on, we'll all go down to your famous recreation room. Only, I promise you, Mavis, you won't enjoy the kind of recreation you're going to experience. Ardith-can you ever forgive your stupid old father?"
"Of course, Daddy. It's all right. Anyhow, even if you hadn't found out about Mavis, I'd have married Bob just to get away from her," Ardith laughingly replied.
"Hmmm," her finace pretended to scowl, "you would, would you? When this is all over, Ardie honey, you and I are going to have a little unfinished business of our own. Come along now."
With this, he seized Mavis Fenwick's other wrist, and the two men led the struggling, cursing, raging mature dominatress down the stairs to the basement, and Ardith opened the door. Then she, her finace and father uttered a simultaneous cry of horrified anger!
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Castilian maid Inez, her back to the door, in low-cut white satin blouse and short black shirt, gleaming black kid boots to her knees, her legs and arms bare, was wielding a thin flexible switch across Phyllis Fenwick's sinuous calves. The weeping redhead, in her tight gleaming black corselet, sheer black opera-length mesh hose clamped with tiny silver chain tabs to the hems of the lustrous kid sheath, tottering in five-inch-high-heeled black kid pumps, had just dropped the book balanced on her lovely head.
"Now, querida," Inez hissed, "get down on your knees and crawl to me. I am going to teach you a very important lesson in obedience and humility."
The weeping fifteen-year-old redhead, her arms cruelly stretched in cross and gyved to the heavy mahogany yardstick, slowly knelt down and approached the Castilian dominatress, who lasciviously caught up her skirt with her left hand and rucked it above her waist ... displaying the plump, thick-black-furred mound of her cunt.
"Now, kiss it, Senorita Phyllis!" she huskily commanded. "Kiss it humbly, or you shall feel this switch on your own soft little slit!"
"I don't think so, you dyke," Arthur Fenwick growled from the open door.
Inez whirled, her mouth gaping in consternation, dropping the switch. "Madre de Dios-que es-" she began.
"Oh, poor Phyl, that horrible woman," Ardith groaned as she hurried to the sobbing young redhead, and, fumbling with the spring of the clamps at each end of the yardstick, freed her youngest sister of the bondage device.
Meanwhile Joan Fenwick, the lovely seventeen-year-old honey-haired girl, having heard the noise, had come from her upstairs room and made her way to the basement just in time to see Ardith free Phyllis from the yardstick, and Bob Grantham seize Inez, who fought like a tigress, while her father was holding Mavis's wrists.
"Give us a hand, girls," Arthur Fenwick cried." Ardith, you help me with your former stepmother. Joan, give Bob a hand with that Spanish dyke!"
"Querida, what are they going to do to us?" Inez panted, as she tried vainly to break free of Bob Grantham's hold.
"Give you what's coming to you, that's what," Joan gleefully cried and hurried to help Ardith's handsome young fiance with the struggling Castilian Lesbian.
"Now then, Mother," Ardith purred silkily as she twisted Mavis's wrist behind her back, "you don't know how I've been looking forward to this. Daddy, let's tie her down on that spanking bench she was always so fond of making us go over, hm?"
"NOOOOOOO! I FORBID YOU TO, DO YOU HEAR? STOP IT!" Mavis shrieked as the two forced her towards the low wide bench with its buckling straps.
But Ardith and Arthur Fenwick forced her down on it, and Arthur sat down on his wife's back while Ardith joyously seized each slim wrist in turn and tightly strapped it, then went to the foot of the bench and strapped Mavis's slim ankles.
Arthur Fenwick rose, gripped the neck of the satin housecoat, and ripped it down Mavis's lithe, svelte body, as the exotic brunette dominatress tried frantically to press herself tightly down against the bench and prevent this ultimate catastrophe.
In vain ... the garment was ripped from her body, and Mavis lay stark naked save for her black high-heeled pumps, her body stretched, her arms and legs drawn to maximum length and pinioned tightly by the buckled straps.
His eyes blazed with lust at the spectacle; the supple body, statuesque and white-skinned, shuddering along the bench; Mavis's raven hair coiled in coronet braid round the top of her autocratic head, her slender waist from which flared the sleek hips and the tightly set, broad but marvelously resilient bottom ovals, the long thighs and sinuously high-set calves. Agonized, the mature imperatrix turned her face back over her shoulder, her gray-green eyes wide with apprehension, the wings of her sensuous aquiline nose shrinking and dilating quickly-a telltale sign of her craven terror now. Her carmine-tinted thin, imperious mouth was trembling, and as she twisted herself to appeal to him, the magnificent firm pears of her titties swelled, the dark buds of the nipples rasping against the hard wood of the whipping bench.
"No, no, don't hurt me," she whimpered, "for God's sake, Arthur-let me go, I-I'll give you the divorce, I swear I will!"
"That I'm sure of, you perverted bitch!" he snapped at her. "But I'm not punishing you for what you did to me, only for the way you brutalized my helpless girls. It was my fault for giving you so much rope-but you've hanged yourself, Mavis. Ardith honey-what would you suggest for this affectionate stepmother of yours as a starter?"
Meanwhile Bob Grantham, aided by Joan and the understandably vindictive red-haired young Phyllis, had dragged the shrieking Castilian dominatress over to the punishment sawhorse. While Bob held her wrists doubled behind her back, Joan and Phyllis ripped off her skirt-exposing her naked loins and the thick black curls over her plump cunt.
"The dirty slut," Phyllis hissed, "she was going to make me kiss her there-look, she's got no panties on-she needs a spanking for that, don't you think so, Bob?"
"With interest," he laughed as he easily quelled Inez's frenzied attempts to break free of his hold.
Next came the blouse-and now it was seen that Inez was naked except for her gleaming knee-long black kid boots. Her figure was magnificently opulent and voluptuous, and her round, full, narrowly set titties jiggled as she continued to struggle and cry out for help. From her slim waist, the jut of her ripe full bottom rounds, set with a gradually widening crease that, in its ambery-shadowy mystery, hinted of the erotic vistas of both cunt and anus, the full plump thighs and calves, the warm olive sheen of her naked skin, and her sensual face with high-set cheekbones, the ripe, lascivious mouth, the flashing dark brown eyes which were murderously glowing now, made her furiously arousing to even young Bob Grantham's carnal senses, and as he held her and forced her over to the sawhorse, he could not help experiencing an erection.
"OHHHH NOOOO! HELP ME, QUERIDA MAVIS!" Inez screamed as the two girls and Bob pushed her down astride the sawhorse, and Bob held her with his palms pressed against her deeply hollowed, exquisitely dimpled olive-satiny back as Phyllis and Joan strapped her wrists and ankles and buckled them. Her ripe bottom was thus proffered well out, the cheeks lewdly distended by the sharp ridge of the apparatus, which chafed her sensitive cunthole, and as she squirmed ineffectually, she cried out in pain at this exacerbating sensation.
"Now I think we're all ready," Bob Grantham announced. "Let's all watch Ardie start Mavis off in the right direction!"
"Boy, will I ever!" the lovely mature brunette exclaimed as, drawing up the low footstool at the end of the bench, she seated herself, put her left hand on the small of her stepmother's back, then passed her right hand lingeringly over the contracting milky bottom-ovals.
"ARDITH! STOP IT! I FORBID YOU TO!" Mavis shrieked in mortified apprehension, writhing and twisting against her straps.
"Sorry, Mavis, I'm going to let you feel what it's like, the way you did it to me," was Ardith Fenwick's cool answer. She continued to palpate and squeeze and then pinch the lusciously resilient, full oval globes while Mavis moaned and closed her eyes, trembling fitfully at the ignominy of her situation.
Then suddenly Ardith lifted her right hand, brought it down with a sharp Smack! on her stepmother's right bottom cheek, at the ripest curve of the summit, and a bright pink splotch at once marred the nacreous satiny flesh which had never known such demeaning treatment till this moment.
"OHHHHH!" Mavis cried hoarsely, arching her titties up from the whipping bench, gray-green eyes exorbitantly dilated, her face scarlet with her dying shame.
A second smack decorated the other shuddering, contracting buttock now, and then Ardith warmed to her task. Eyes sparkling, lips compressed with vengeful hatred, the lovely brunette began to spank with the full force of her arm, making Mavis's resilient buttocks dance and flatten, roll and weave, and turn from bright pink to flaming red. Gritting her teeth, the perverse brunette dominatress tried to keep silent, but under Ardith's implacable and vigorous smacks, she began at last to moan and sob, then fearfully look back over her milky shoulder, eyes wide and blurred with tears, as the energetic hand of the embittered brunette fell repeatedly and sonorously over her discolored, burning buttocks.
"Oww-ohh-stop, Ardith, oh my God, you-you're hurting me!" she plaintively wailed, her hips swerving convulsively on the whipping bench as she tried to escape the insistent, seemingly endless avalanche of spanks. "Arthur, oh my darling-aii-ouuuuuuu-oh please make her stop-it hurts me-OOWWWWW OUUUUU! PLEEEEASE!"
Ardith at last stopped, after perhaps some fifty handspanks, flushed and breathing hard. Then she wrung her hand in the air, ruefully remarking, "My hand stings as much as that big hard bottom of hers, Daddy. That'll do for now."
"FOR NOW?" Mavis fairly shrieked, turning her contorted tearstained face back to look at her young tormentress. "Oh Arthur, in the name of mercy, don't let them do anything more to me, for God's sake-I'll leave right now, I promise, but if you ever loved me, don't let them hurt me any more!"
But Arthur Fenwick had been conditioned by the perverse aura of subjugation, and so Mavis's supplication had the opposite effect on him than what she had hoped; for this virile mature man had just discovered that he was as sexually excited by the sight of the svelte brunette's naked body writhing under his daughter's spanking hand as he had been in seeing Ardith herself being so shamefully and sensually chastised. Subjugation, Mavis's cunning weapon, had thus boomeranged against her-which perhaps was poetic justice!
CHAPTER TWENTY
"Joan, you're next," Arthur Fenwick called. Inez Corduba had been left to groan and sob astride her sawhorse, naked but for her boots, while Phyllis and Joan, whom she had so viciously tormented during the regime of Mavis Fenwick in this household, had stood round taunting her and threatening her with all kinds of vengeance.
The slim honey-haired girl advanced, and Ardith rose, offering her the footstool. "Golly, Ardie," Joan exulted, "you sure painted her white skin a nice flaming red, just like a ripe tomato. Well, I'll pretend that it hasn't been spanked yet, because I sure owe Mother dear a lot!"
So saying, she seated herself comfortably on the stool, then cruelly put both slim hands on her stepmother's flaming naked behind, and squeezed the burning cheeks at their pouting inner edges.
"OWOUUUUUUUU! OHH PLEEEEEEEEEASE STOP, JOAN DARLING, OHHHHOUUUUUU, YOU'RE HURTING SO!" Mavis screamed, forsaking all her imperious aplomb, and her head rose up, eyes blinded with great hot tears, as she jerked wildly at her strapped wrists, her pear titties shudderingly heaving, while her straddled thighs tried hard to clench shut.
"My, my, Mother dear, you're awfully sensitive," Joan taunted. "You mean to tell me these little pinches are hurting you? But you never seemed to care when we cried. Answer me, Mother!" And the honey-haired seventeen-year-old former victim of the domineering brunette tightened thumbs and forefingers against the suave pouting inner edges of that violently splotched naked mature bottom.
"OUUUUUUEEEEEEYAHRRR' YES YES, THEY DO HURT, OH GOD, OH DARLING JOAN, PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!" shrieked the agonized stepmother, face turned back in agonized supplication.
"All right, Mother, you know the formula, you sure taught it to all of us. If you want me to stop pinching, ask me to give your big naked bottom a good sound spanking," Joan savoringly told the writhing naked captive.
"OHH ARTHUR, IN GOD'S NAME, MAKE HER STOP HURTING ME! OH HAVE PITY ON ME PLEASE, ARTHUR, I BESEECH YOU, PLEASE, IF YOU EVER LOVED ME!" Mavis shrilled as she tried to seek out her husband's flushed, intent face. But he had eyes only for her wriggling, inflamed naked behind, which Joan continued to pinch.
"You'd better address yourself to your daughter, my dear," he mocked her.
"OWOWUUUUUUUUUUU. DON'T, DON'T, OH PLEASE STOP, OH NO MORE!" Mavis screamed as Joan tightened the vise-like grip of thumbs and forefingers against the tender inner edges of her martyred posterior.
"Then say what I told you to say, Mother dear," Joan mocked.
"ARRRR! OH STOP PINCHING, YES, YES, I'LL SAY IT! OH MY GOD, OH JOAN PLEASE, PLEASE ... AHHHH ... OHHHHHHHH I CAN'T STAND THE PAIN!" Mavis wailed as the young honey-haired teenaged continued to pinch her exacerbated bottom, and her hips jerked and tossed in the most salacious manner to try to evade the torturing grip of those slim young fingers.
"Then say it," Joan demanded, giving the bruised, reddened flesh an extra-cruel twist with both thumbs and forefingers.
"EEEEYOOOOOWWWWOOUUUUAIIIII! I will, I WILL, ONLY LET GO! Ohh J-Joan-pi-please g-give me a spanking and-and s-stop pinching, oh please," she incoherently sobbed.
Joan giggled, then winked at her sisters and father: "Give you a spanking where, Mother? You have to tell me, you know."
"OWOWOWOEEEEEE!" Mavis cried desperately as the young girl's fingers again intensified the cruel vise-like pressure against her burning flesh. "SPANK ME ON MY N ... N ... NAKED BOTTOM, OH FOR GOD'S SAKE, DO IT AND STOP HURTING ME SO!"
"You have to be humble, Mother, and not order me around, you know. Ask for it humbly, that's a lamb." Joan was in her seventh heaven of retaliatory delight. Indeed, Mavis Fenwick's teachings had rebounded against her own hitherto arrogantly untouchable person.
."Ohh-ahh-ohh G-God-ohh-J-Joan, pi-pi-please-g-give me," Mavis wept, bowed her head, her body violently shuddering.
"Say it, Mother! Quick!" Joan hissed, and again her fingers grabbed hold of the bruised, burning flesh in that tender region.
"EEEEEYAHRRRRROUUUUAIIIIII!! I WILL, I WILL, OH PLEASE LET GO! JOAN, PLEASE, I BEG YOU H ... H ... HUMBLY TO ... TO ... TO G ... GIVE ME A S ... SPANKING ON MY B ... BARE B ... BOTTOM ... PLEASE ... I ... I'm BEGGING YOU, JOAN, DEAR!" Mavis wailed.
"That's better, Mother. All right, I will. A good spanking," Joan slyly corrected. "Get ready, and when I finish you have to thank me and kiss my hand for doing it, hear?"
"Ahh ... oh God ... I ... I want to d ... die," moaned the mature svelte brunette.
Then suddenly her hips lunged and twisted; Joan had again repeated the vicious pinch to the inner edges of her scarlet behind. "You didn't answer me, Mother," Joan sweetly purred.
"OWWWW! YES, YES, I'LL KISS YOUR HAND AND THANK YOU, JOAN, BUT PLEASE, OH MY GOD, DON'T PINCH MY POOR BOTTOM ANY MORE!" Mavis Fenwick wailed.
"That's better. All right, Mother dear, I'm going to spank your big red bottom good and hard. And you can cry all you want, isn't that nice of me?"
"Ohh-G-God YES OWOWOWOUUUU. YES, IT IS, IT'S VERY GOOD OF YOU, DEAR JOAN, OH PLEASE NO MORE PINCHING, I BEG YOU HUMBLY, JOAN DARLING, PLEASE SPANK ME AND LET ME GO!"
For once again, the honey-haired teenager had sadistically pinched the very same places, and Mavis's body tossed and jerked madly on the bench of pain.
Now Joan began to spank, as energetically as Ardith had done before her, and very soon Mavis, abandoning all her imperious attitude, forgetting her nakedness and the salacity of her weaving, arching, wriggling maneuvers on the bench, sobbed and wept and pleaded hysterically to be spared as her bottom now turned to an ominous dark-red hue.
Then Phyllis took Joan's place, and Mavis broke down and tearfully implored mercy from the young redhead and from her father. It did no good; Phyllis applied as vigorous a handspanking as her two sisters, and Mavis lay half fainted, her bottom swollen and almost livid, shaken by intermittent, convulsive shudders.
"Now it's Inez's turn," Ardith joyously cried.
All this time, the Castilian woman, naked but for boots, had lain astride the sawhorse, hearing and seeing with horrified apprehension the punishment of her beloved mistress.
Now, seeing the three girls approach, she screamed out, "OH SENOR FENWICK, I WAS JUST TAKING ORDERS FROM THE SENORA, TRULY I WAS, DON'T HURT ME, I JUST DID WHAT I WAS TOLD!"
But Inez fared no better than her mistress. Ardith again was first. The handspanking hurt Inez far more than it had her mistress, for, try as she would to remain motionless under the stinging smacks which soon colored her olive-skinned ripe buttocks to a bright scarlet, she could not help squirming about, and the narrow ridge of the wooden sawhorse chafed and rubbed her tender cuntlips till she was in tears and pleading with them, at least if they had to punish her, to take her off this accursed device.
That plea fell on deaf ears and Joan took Ardith's place and began to spank the Castilian woman vigorously, and Inez's shrieks and babbled pleas, mainly in Spanish, rang out in the recreation room.
Then it was the turn of Phyllis, by which time Inez was humbly and brokenly babbling the most heartrending abject supplications for pardon, apologizing to the red-haired teenager, swearing she had not herself wished to do these dreadful things to the "lovely Senorita Phyllis," but only by order of the "cruel Se-nora Fenwick." At this, Mavis shrilly denounced her maid as a traitress, and Bob and Arthur chuckled at this remarkable alteration of personality which a good dose of corporal punishment had brought about.
Phyllis's spanking made Inez bound and perk madly over the sawhorse, her head flung back, eyes glazed with agony as her cuntlips, chafed and exacerbated by the diabolically sharp ridge of the apparatus, punished each involuntary gyration of her opulent naked boot-shod body.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"Now, girls, I think we'll take over from here," Arthur Fenwick said thickly as Phyllis blew on her inflamed spanking hand, rose from the stool, leaving Inez to wail and writhe on the sawhorse. "We've a score to settle on our own, haven't we, Bob?"
"Indeed we have, sir," Bob Grantham enthusiastically agreed.
Reluctantly, the three teenagers left the recreation room, and Arthur Fenwick crossed over to the doot and locked it.
He eyed his future son-in-law, and saw that the brown-haired affable young attorney had as violent an erection as he did himself.
"Want to take Inez, Bob, while I give Mavis what's coming to her?" he proposed.
"Suits me fine, sir."
."OHH SENORA MAVIS, OH DIOS MIO, AYU-DEMI, POR FAVOR DE DIOS, THEY'RE GOING TO HURT US SOME MORE!" Inez shrieked to her mistress strapped on the whipping bench.
"You know, Bob," Arthur Fenwick chuckled, "I think you'll make Ardith a fine husband. And I'm sure you'll take care of her in the bed department-this is man to man, of course."
"Naturally, sir. I'll do my best."
"Thener-suppose you give me a demonstration with Inez there, while I give Mavis her last loving up," Arthur Fenwick proposed. "First, help me put her on her back."
"NOOOOOO! DON'T YOU DARE, ARTHUR FENWICK!" Mavis shrieked, realizing what her husband had in mind.
But the two men unstrapped her limbs, only to force her down on her blazing, swollen bottom, strapping her wrists and ankles even more tightly, and Mavis found herself straddled on the bench while her husband calmly opened his fly and liberated his swollen prick.
Then, kneeling down, he played with her pussylips through the black curly fleece, slyly pinching the twitching sensitive pink lips of her vulva, while she prayed and wept and implored him not to humiliate her in this supremely outrageous way, not before her own maid-by which, of course, she meant lover, for Inez loathed the male.
But her cries were drowned out by the Castilian woman's, as Bob Grantham approached the sawhorse, his cock already emerged from his fly, and, gripping her opulent olive-sheened hip edges, crouched and then arched himself till his prick grazed the gaping pink petals of Inez Corduba's cunthole.
"OHHHHH NOOOOO! KILL ME! I DO NOT WANT YOU TO DO THIS! WHIP ME, TORTURE ME, BUT NOT THAT, POR AMOR BE DIOS!" Inez shrieked with all her might, struggling and trying to flatten herself on the sawhorse.
But Bob Grantham, lifting her up slightly by his grip on her naked hips, made contact at last with her soft quim, and shoved forward. Inez's head rose, a look of unspeakable shame and agony on her sensual face ... then she shrieked wildly as his cock pressed against her hymen, for she was still a virgin to the male!
With a grunt, the young attorney crammed forward, and Inez shrieked hoarsely, eyes bulging, as she felt herself profaned, his stiff cock distending the tight walls of her sheath. Then he fucked her violently, while on the bench, Arthur Fenwick lay atop his writhing, moaning wife, his prick burrowed to the hilt inside her cunt.
Before the two men left, Arthur Fenwick replaced Bob Grantham with Inez, while the young attorney mounted the woman who would have been his mother-in-law, and showed that Ardith would have no reason to find him inadequate as a groom!
* * *
Three months have passed since that last scene. Ardith is now Mrs. Bob Grantham and divinely happy. She hasn't quite escaped spanking, grownup and married though she is-she secretly thrills to it. Because the night of that unforgettable turning of the tables on the perverse stepmother and her Lesbian accomplice, Bob told Ardith that she had a spanking coming for having said that she would have married him just to get away from Mavis and Inez. In vain she laughingly pleaded it was just a joke. But Bob took her over his lap, lifted skirt and slip, and then, to his beautiful fiancee's blushing and astounded discomfiture, proceeded to lower her panties to her heels and administer a very sound and stinging handspanking ... and after which, Ardith discovered to her somewhat naughty delight, he was so excited that he laid her down on the couch and mounted her and she, to her own surprise, found herself responding passionately-so that their wedding night came somewhat in advance....
Arthur Fenwick is sadder and wiser, and he's hired an elderly housekeeper from an employment agency, who's not the least bit physically appealing and feels it's not her concern how her employer's daughters behave so long as they don't interfere with her housework.
Mavis and Inez have fled the state, and no one knows where they are at this moment. But one day, perhaps sooner than any of us think, if we should be in need of a housekeeper, and a tall exotic brunette in the company of a ripe, olive-skinned Spanish woman, registered at some employment agency somewhere in the States, should knock at your door to answer your request for domestic help, take care before you let them in!
