Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 106: The third girl

Raylene lowered her body so her breasts and belly rested on wood that, even through her t-shirt, must feel cold and hard. She straightened her legs again so her arse arched and offered itself. I nodded. She didn’t see that, so I said, “I know it hurts, Raylene, but you’ll get through it. Just twelve more with this cane, then we’ll give you a short break. Ok?”

caned speakRaylene had to take several ragged breaths before she could answer.

“Yes, master. Um. Do I say, ‘One, thank you, master?'” 

I’d spanked her in Lynette’s room when she’d asked a question instead of waiting for me to tell her what to do. But I didn’t want to add to her punishment just then.

Not when she was so obviously trying to be helpful, and good.

So I put my hand on her arse above that first red stripe, and squeezed lightly so she knew it was affectionate. “No, love. I want you to concentrate on what you feel. Counting distracts you. It makes it easier.” This isn’t really true, by the way, though having to count can stop a submissive from floating into subspace. I just didn’t want to have to give her extra strokes when she got the count wrong, as she inevitably would. “And I don’t want you to have it easy, girl. So just do what you’re told. Leave the rest to me.” 

That must have reminded her, too, of the spanking she’d had in front of Lynette. “Course. I’m sorry, master.” That sounded sincere. She was.

“It’s ok, love. You’re being good. I’m proud of you.”

Raylene paused, thinking about that: this was praise for being properly submissive while getting the cane. Not many people got that kind of praise, and now she was one of them. “Thank you, master.”

Dorabella crept a little closer, presumably to get a closer picture of the first stripe, now slightly raised, and my hand. The end of the cane she held between her thighs poked the back of her robe from her body, leaving the tops of her thighs and her hips uncovered.

“You’ll need to come back beside me, Dorabella.” She dropped to her knees, and crawled backwards, trying to keep the phone level and steady. I touched the top of her head, and then put my fingers to her mouth as a caress and so she could kiss them if she wanted. She did. Then she looked up at me. She was happy, bright-eyed, though I suspected she had some message she was trying to signal to me, that I couldn’t read.  

flinchI raised the cane and drew it back. Dorabella swung the phone to capture that. I tried to look serious for the camera. Then I struck, and Dorabella swivelled.

She missed the instant of impact, but filmed Raylene’s reactions, her muscles straining as she held herself nearly still. The second stripe rose and colored, more or less horizontal with the first but three centimetres higher.

Raylene tensed then relaxed, her upper body flat to the desk. “Fffffff….” 

She arched her ass up for the next. I said, “That’s good. You’re being very brave.” 

Raylene wasn’t ready to speak. Her knuckles were white. She gripped the front desk legs for dear life. “Ahhhh…” 

I raised the cane again. 

But there was bustle on the stairs. “Hold it! Sorry I’m late! Sorry! Can you … wait a sec?” 

2 thoughts on “Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 106: The third girl

  1. My knuckles are also white, holding on to the edge of my seat…

    (Although not so much now, since you’ve told us that the story won’t be finished for the next 400 years or so.)

    • Hi! And good to know I’m keeping your knuckles pearly white. It’d take 400 years to write the whole history of my relationship with Raylene if I wrote it in the same detail I’ve been writing up the first 20-odd hours.

      I’m considering, though, that when the threesome scene starts, I could just write, “And then the threesome happened. You know what threesomes are like, for heaven’s sake.” And then resuming the story three months later, with Raylene and I and … one other person … just watching TV and arguing about whose turn it was to do the dishes. But arguing verrrry slowly.

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