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Subject: {ASSM} The Governor's Wife - Part Eleven
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Warning: This story is about non-consensual domination. It is
fiction, but it is erotic - despite or perhaps partly because it
is non-consensual.
Copyright: Victor Bruno.
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
The Governor's Wife
by Victor Bruno
Part Eleven
When Frank came round, he thought at first he must have
had some kind of accident and was in hospital. He kept
his eyes closed, trying to orientate his thoughts. There
seemed to be pain everywhere. In his neck, his arms, his
thighs and, above all, over his buttocks ....
His buttocks!
Frank's eyelids sprang back .... and he literally
screamed as, with a hideous rush, full sensibility came
back to him. The cause of his pains were immediately
obvious, for he was bound hand and foot to the long
trestle stool that stood in Hettie's bedroom. Or rather,
his arms and thighs were corded to the legs and there
was another cord about his neck, secured similarly. And
there was no need to tell him the reason for the pain in
his buttocks!
She had knocked him senseless with a single blow!
Now he was helpless!
Panic gripped him at the thought .... and he tugged and
tugged like a maniac at his bonds, at the same time
bellowing and begging to be released.
It could not be happening! It could not be!
Not to him!
"Stop.... ooohhh.... stop!" he howled. "I... I g-give up
.... I do .... I do! I'll go .... go to the Governor
.... I will! I .... I'll admit rape .... anything!"
Hettie tapped his helpless buttocks lightly with the
cane.
"Afterwards," she said softly.
"No .... NO .... OOWWW!" it was a shriek. A shriek of
pure terror.
"Afterwards, if you like," said Hettie in the same soft
way.
"Please now....pleee....eeease....no.... ooowww ...."
moaned Frank.
"There's nothing you can do about it any more, Frank,"
said Hettie, in the same, almost gentle tone. "Nothing
at all. No twisting away.... no clasping of hands ...."
"M-Mercy .... m-mercy ...."
"Absolutely nothing at all. And you've still got
eighteen more to come!"
There was still no venom or cruelty in the voice. It was
rather like that of a mother chiding her child.
Regretting she had to take punitive action. Implying it
was for the child's own good.
Frank prayed for insensibility.
Eighteen more like that!
They would not be possible to endure.
Frank prayed for death.
Perhaps it would come anyway.
Flesh and blood had its limits ....
His whole body and being seemed to clench inwardly as he
heard the deadly whistle of the cane descending.
Then it flamed across his flesh .... searing deep....
Deep in his mind, too....
Convulsed in agony within his restricting bonds, a
banshee-like howl jetted from his throat.
Frank Lander was about to learn the meaning of true
pain.
And he knew it!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Frank survived.
But there were many, many moments during that merciless
thrashing which Hettie Page gave him, when he wished he
would not. Time and again he was sure that death would
have been preferable to enduring just one more
whip-lashing stroke of the rod, laid on with all the
force at Hettie's command.
Particularly strong was Frank's wish to die when one
stroke overlaid a previous one. Whether by accident or
design. The pain seemed sufficient to make one lose
one's mind.
Frank howled himself hoarse.
He howled with pain. And he howled for mercy.
At some stage, he did not howl. He cursed. He cursed his
Fate.... and this woman who was driving him beyond the
limits of endurance.
Yet still, remorselessly, inevitably .... at slowly
measured intervals .... stroke followed stroke.
The Governor's wife said not a word. Her whole being was
concentrated on her task and her target. The only sounds
she made were the grunts of effort which accompanied
every stroke.
By the end, the whole area was a mass of ridged,
red-purple weals. Each one an individual source of
burning-throbbing torment.
And by the end, Frank was as near insensible again as
made no difference.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Some kind of cool ointment was going over his
agonizingly tender flesh.
Oh what a blessed relief that was!
Frank sobbed unashamedly. Oh how kind she was .... how
kind!
He was still tied to the trestle stool. But it was all
over. Frank sobbed even more with relief at the
knowledge. His mind veered away from the excruciating
experience he had just endured. Time in plenty to recall
that later. Now he just wanted to wallow in the warm
pool of consciousness in which he seemed to have
arrived. To let time stand still.
Frank was, in fact, rather like someone in a state of
shock.
Oh please let her go on doing that! Indefinitely. Oh
it's so lovely! So cooling. So soothing.
And it's all over ....
She caned me. Terribly. But I'm still here. I've
survived. One step nearer freedom.
Oh .... oh .... yes .... yes .... it's all over ....
Frank did not mind how much he sobbed, feeling the hot
tears running down his cheeks. What did anything matter
any more?
It was over ....
All over!
??
URL <a href="http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html">Bruno
Books</a> Email <a
href="mailto:VictorBruno@MsChristine.com">Bruno List</a>
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