Chapter Three

Sophie firmly shifted all the uncomfortable and distracting aggravations that were making life singularly unpleasant for everybody to the back of her mind, and devoted her full concentration to her work. It was Monday, and one of those especially trying summer days; hot, airless and muggy, and their offices may have had a certain old-fashioned charm but were horribly stuffy. Tempers were frayed and the atmosphere was tense and unpleasant.

The case she was working on didn’t help. Their client was a thoroughly nasty piece of work, whose father was one of the firm’s oldest clients and who therefore seemed to think that this gave him the right to demand both the impossible and the unethical. He had been breathalysed after skidding off the road - only by a complete fluke avoiding an elderly couple on the pavement - had been nearly three times over the limit, and was being charged with driving without care and attention in addition to being under the influence.

As far as Sophie was concerned, a year or two in what one of her more cynical colleagues called ‘Her Majesty’s Rest Homes for the terminally idle’ would have done young Simon a power of good, but it was her job to try and help him get off as lightly as possible.

With grim satisfaction she confirmed that the police had carried out all the basic procedures by the book, that there were no appropriate mitigating circumstances, and that he would be hard pressed to claim that his career depended on being able to drive. As objectively as possible she dictated her summary, took it to the typist, sorted all the papers out, and then sat back with a weary sigh.

She saw that it was half past twelve, remembered that she had not taken a lunch break for over a week, and so decided to do just that.

Ten minutes later she was happily ensconced in an air-conditioned wine bar, an ice-cold spritzer in her hand and a Salade Nicoise on its way. She decided to take stock of her life.

On the one hand, she was growing increasingly disillusioned with her career. When she had first decided to read Law she had nurtured dreams of helping to combat injustice in general, and was beginning to realise that practising it was a different thing altogether. She was honest enough to admit that her present job was not right for her and that she would probably have been more content in a less high-powered firm, with more Legal Aid work. With equal honesty, she realised that she was not tough enough to make a success of taking on the big battalions on behalf of the proverbial little man - and/or woman. The sad fact was that the big battalions were by their very nature, powerful and well armed, and victory over them required more courage and determination than she had.

It did not help that she had failed to make any real friends at work. Nor had she felt able to discuss her growing unhappiness with Elspeth. She was not only feeling more and more isolated, but was facing the unhappy prospect of working with the one partner she disliked. Known generally - but behind his back, and at a safe distance - as Weasel, he was acknowledged by one and all as a brilliant solicitor. Sophie knew she would have the chance to learn a lot under his guidance but, as she sat picking at her food, she felt increasingly sure that she did not really want to end up resembling him in the least. Neither personally nor professionally. Earlier that morning she had heard him tearing a strip off one of her colleagues, a promising lad and one of the few who had been reasonably nice to her.

Not that Simon had done anything wrong. There had just been a conflict of priorities. He had been asked by another partner to drop everything for an hour and give him a hand. The Weasel had objected in principle to having his case sidelined, even though it had not mattered one bit. His face, red with embarrassment and resentment, had been as eloquent a sign of things to come as anything.

The other side of the coin was, of course, home and Elspeth. Sophie had left for work that morning even more reluctantly than usual after an exciting weekend and, as she pushed her empty plate aside and took the first sip from her second drink, she sat back and reminisced, her frown replaced by a happy little smile.

She had only been spanked twice but both had been, in very different ways, incredibly satisfying. The first had been on the Saturday morning, for failing to hoover behind a chest in the hall. Elspeth’s attitude had been very much as usual - more sorrow than anger, brooking no excuse and making no effort to disguise her pleasure at finding a reason to administer the customary spanking to Sophie’s bare bottom.

Not that she objected to Elspeth’s enjoyment. Quite the opposite. Underlying the normal sense of nervous trepidation at the prospect of a painful punishment, there was an extra feeling of almost sexual excitement. Ever since that fateful picnic in the park, when Sophie had finally faced the fact that Elspeth fancied her, her punitive spankings had been much easier to bear. She was still afflicted by the old symptoms, ranging from a dry mouth, a butterfly-filled hollow in her tummy and a draining of her strength, especially in her legs, but she had soon found the sensations almost addictive.

They had been especially strong on that last Saturday. Elspeth had insisted that the hoovering had to be done thoroughly, and Sophie had simply forgotten. She therefore knew that her spanking would be unusually rigorous. She had been made to wait for over half an hour before presenting herself for punishment and, for once, had been glad of the delay.

She had sat quietly in the kitchen, keeping her breathing regular and even, steadily building up her mental reserves to cope with the forthcoming pain. With her eyes closed, she had taken herself mentally through the preparations, which for punishments were brisk and efficient rather than sensual.

She imagined the feel of first her leggings and then her knickers being drawn down over her prominent bottom, the feeling of fresh air on naked skin making her buttocks feel immediately vulnerable, the inevitable pause of a minute or so while Elspeth studied her bare bottom. Sophie dreamily relived her usual feelings at that stage, from the comfortable intimacy of Elspeth’s lovely thighs supporting her to the rather less comforting knowledge that very soon the pain would begin.

Since her first spanking she had learned a great deal about pain. Specifically, pain in her bottom. She was still as wimpish as ever over things like a stubbed toe or twisted ankle, but a smacked bottom had a markedly different quality as far as she was concerned, whether she was being punished or Elspeth was simply indulging her bizarre tastes. It helped that the punishments were always for an actual misdemeanour, so that her mind was attuned to contrition rather than resentment.

The spanks were always hard enough to make her bottom wobble like a jelly and each one stung, but only enough to make her blink. It was the cumulative effect which made the difference between punishment and play. Slowly and steadily, with the regular, rhythmic sound of Elspeth’s hand on her flesh ringing in her ears, Sophie would lie as still as she could for as long as she could, grimly hanging on to the thought that she was getting exactly what she deserved. No more, but certainly no less.

The pain, the submissiveness, the intimacy of their relative positions and the odd sense of security she found whenever she was being held securely down across Elspeth’s knee, all combined to make her determined to do better and, after it was over, genuinely grateful for the trouble taken to correct her faults.

And afterwards there was the nice glow of the aftermath and the knowledge that the slate had been wiped clean and all was forgiven and forgotten.

Until the next time.

That last Saturday’s session had gone according to the established custom, until the end.

Sophie had been very close to tears after an especially testing punishment, convinced that her poor bottom was hotter and more painful than ever. When Elspeth’s hand had stopped beating her she slumped over her lap, gasping with tears in her eyes. As usual she panted out her apologies and thanks for the punishment, and had been more than a little dismayed at Elspeth’s reaction.

‘I’m afraid it’s not over yet, darling,’ she had said firmly.

‘Oh!’ Sophie responded, her voice high-pitched and tremulous.

‘Get up and go and stand in the corner,’ Elspeth ordered. ‘And hold your shirt well up so I can see your bottom.’

She had stood there, gratefully feeling the burning ebb slowly away, quite frightened at the thought of further punishment, but with her fear tempered by a combination of curiosity and adrenaline.

Elspeth had left the room, returning quickly and resuming her seat.

‘Come here, Sophie.’

She had seen the wooden hairbrush as she hobbled across the room, and the extra surge of fear left a metallic taste in her mouth.

Elspeth carefully positioned her, draping her across her parted thighs with the left one lowered so that Sophie’s torso sloped downwards, elevating her bottom. She then increased its prominence even more by making the trembling girl draw her knees up and move them apart.

Sophie had felt hideously exposed and in no doubt that her fanny was fully visible. Elspeth stroked and squeezed her rounded cheeks and then pulled them wide apart, causing a brief flash of pain in her anus, before letting go and retrieving her implement.

‘I’m going to give six of the best, Sophie dear,’ she had announced grimly. ‘Right here, on the base of your bottom. It’ll make sitting rather uncomfortable for the rest of the day, but that’s just too bad. Understand?’

‘Yes, Elspeth,’ she had quavered, relieved that it was only going to be six but still dreading the unknown bite of the seemingly innocent implement. ‘Thank you, Elspeth.’

‘Good girl. I’ll tell you what, you can choose. Either I give you three on your left buttock and then three on the right, or I can go from buttock to buttock. Which would you prefer?’

‘Oh... from buttock to buttock, please.’

‘Fine. Now brace yourself.’

Sophie had felt the cool smooth wood tap the lowest part of her left cheek and had held a deep breath behind gritted teeth. She felt the slight movement as Elspeth raised her right arm to her shoulder and then a loud Thwack! had reached her ears, just as considerable pain flooded through her soft flesh. It had taken most of her determination to stop herself from screaming aloud, and the rest of it to keep her bottom in position.

Then the adrenaline had come to her rescue, helping her to stiffen the sinews and take the remaining five without letting herself down. In fact, as the pain had mounted she discovered new reserves. By the end she found herself almost revelling in the fight between the escalation in severity and her ability to conquer her natural instincts to protect her suffering buttocks.

Sophie looked at her watch and happily noted that she still had at least fifteen minutes before she had to get back to the office. With a slight start, she realised that the intensity of reverie had dampened her knickers and, with a rueful shrug decided to recall Sunday’s contrasting session.

Elspeth had ordered her to spend the entire day in the nude and had warned her that she would help herself to handfuls of flesh whenever the mood took her. As her bottom had not fully recovered from the hairbrush it had only been spanked once, in the late afternoon, but that spanking had been rather memorable.

Sophie had been standing by the mantelpiece in the sitting room, happily studying the painting of the naked girl, when Elspeth had come in.

‘Don’t move, darling,’ she said immediately - and slightly huskily.

Sophie obeyed, holding her breath as the excitement surged and her bottom tingled. It had been the obvious target of Elspeth’s attention, and therefore it was a reasonable assumption that something was going to happen to it.

She soon discovered that she had adopted that lovely relaxed, feminine stance, with one leg forward and slightly bent, the other one straight. One buttock plumped and firm, the other softly sloping. Elspeth described the contrasting shapes in some detail and her hands had added emphasis.

Then she made her stand quite still to be spanked, and both had enjoyed the difference in the pliability of her cheeks, with Sophie furthering her education by analysing the difference in feel between spanks on a compact buttock and on a softly relaxed one. Slightly to her surprise, they had been noticeably less painful on relaxed flesh and she made a mental note that it was in her interests not to tense her bottom on future occasions.

She had ended up with a hot, red, and deliciously sore bottom, so turned on that she had gratefully seized on an excuse to slip up to her room and bring herself to a terrific climax.

With a start Sophie realised she was on the verge of being late, so paid and trotted back to the office, trying to quash the feeling of slight nausea by reminding herself that in about four hours she would be back home. With Elspeth.

The Weasel greeted her at reception. ‘Where the fuck have you been?’

Sophie blushed furiously, then felt icily calm. ‘At lunch.’

‘What about the Dyson case?’

‘Being typed up.’

‘Oh. Well don’t sneak off again, I might need you.’

Without another word, Sophie marched to her office, wrote out her resignation and took it straight to the senior partner, who tried to persuade her that it was all a storm in a teacup.

But Sophie sensed his heart wasn’t in it and stuck to her guns. The net result was that she was told to hand over all outstanding work to Tony, clear her desk and leave. A cheque for three months’ salary in lieu of notice would be sent to her home address.

Half thrilled at the possibilities of a new life, half frightened that she had done something very stupid, Sophie quickly put an end to her short and unhappy professional career.

In the meantime, Elspeth had decided that it was far too hot to arrange a liaison with one of her lovers, and had spent the entire morning relaxing.

When Sophie had been slaving away in her hot office, she had been lying languorously on the sofa, naked, listening to Mozart’s Don Giovani and reaching the conclusion that Sophie was now ripe and ready to be plucked. As the peasant girl, Zerlina, began to sing the lovely and highly appropriate aria, ‘Batti, batti’ (beat me, beat me), she recalled the sight of Sophie’s beautiful and beautifully presented bare bottom, shuddering under the hairbrush. Her fingers delved into her wet fanny and played her instrument in time with soaring voice and orchestra until her hoarse cries drowned the music.

And so, when an increasingly apprehensive Sophie arrived unexpectedly, Elspeth was already in a receptive mood. When she heard the sound of Sophie’s key in the front door she was in her bedroom having just enjoyed a long shower, and so, had time to throw on a pair of knickers and a cool summer dress. She appeared at the bottom of the stairs looking her usual unflustered self.

She took one look at Sophie’s troubled face and knew that something fairly dramatic had happened.

‘Well?’ she asked simply.

She listened impassively as the girl stammered out a halting explanation for her unexpected arrival and, when the flow eventually dried up, had a struggle to keep any signs of the inner surge of exultation from either her voice or expression.

‘I see,’ she said. ‘So, completely out of the blue, you take it upon yourself to change - and radically change - my life as well as yours.’

As the full implications of her actions struck home, the blood drained from Sophie’s face and she began to tremble all over.

‘Please, Elspeth, don’t throw me out. I’ll look for another job. Waitressing. Anything. I’ll not get under your feet. I promise.’

Elspeth stared steadily at the desolate little figure, rather moved by her desperate attempt to act with dignity.

‘Very commendable,’ she replied acidly, and felt a pang of conscience as Sophie’s face crumbled pathetically, followed by a surge of real affection as she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and forced herself to look into her mentor’s eyes. ‘Let’s discuss it properly,’ she continued, after a meaningful pause. ‘In the sitting room. Make a pot of tea, first. Earl Grey.’

She swayed gracefully into the sitting room and waited with bated breath for the sound of breaking china, knowing that Sophie was hardly in a fit state to work with her customary care.

There were no such disasters, and ten minutes later she drained her second cup, brusquely ordered Sophie to finish her first, took a deep breath, and began the speech which was to seal Sophie’s fate irrevocably.

‘I’ll start by reminding you of some pertinent facts, Sophie. I am extremely fond of you. I find you physically very attractive, especially your bottom. I believe in firm discipline, especially for young women, which I know had helped you to improve a great deal, both in terms of your housework and as a companion.

‘It isn’t that I hate the thought of having you around all day, I promise. The thing is, I have my own life to lead during the week and, if I wasn’t completely free to come and go as I please, I would very soon get irritable. I know you said you would find other employment, and I am sure you would succeed sooner or later and we would get back to where we were. On the other hand, you’re a bright, competent girl and I don’t like the thought of you slaving away in some job that is beneath you.

‘There is also the basic fact that you didn’t see fit to bring me into your confidence before resigning. In other words, I am not sure that I can trust you... now, come on Sophie, don’t cry. Here you are, blow your nose and pull yourself together. That’s better. Now, where was I?

‘Oh yes. Basically, I think we have two choices. The first is that you find somewhere else to live, and the second is that you stay, but very much on my terms.

‘These are that in effect you become, for the want of a better expression, my slave. You will do exactly as I say. Your body in general and your bottom in particular, will be mine. If I want to beat you, then you will submit without any fuss. If I have guests, I may well lock you in your room for the whole time they are here. You will perform the most intimate services for me and you’ll do them willingly. Is that quite clear?’

‘Yes, Elspeth.’

Elspeth heaved a sigh of both triumph and relief when she saw the dawning of hope in Sophie’s haggard face, leaned forward and kissed her hard on the lips. ‘I want you to think it over properly, my sweet. I’ll do the tea things while you stay here and do just that.’

While she appreciated the gesture, Sophie did not need more than a second to make up her mind. In a nutshell, the addictive, thrilling fear when Elspeth sentenced her to a spanking was so far removed from the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach when the Weasel so much as looked disapprovingly in her general direction that there was no doubt in her mind.

She sat waiting for her mistress, a warm sense of calm spreading through her as any uncertainties faded away.

Elspeth came back. ‘Well?’

Sophie drew a deep breath. ‘I would love to be your slave,’ she whispered.

‘Good girl. Now come here and we’ll seal our contract with a kiss.’

With her usual brisk efficiency, Elspeth started as she intended to carry on. Sophie was ordered to crouch down. ‘Take my shoes off, kiss my feet, and then suck my toes.’

Sophie flung herself down, her shaking hands fumbled the shoes clear, and she bent to Elspeth’s elegant and well manicured feet, before a sudden flash of inspiration earned her a number of brownie points. She knelt up and caught Elspeth’s eye.

‘Would you like me to bare my bottom, so you can look down on it?’ she asked nervously.

‘That would be nice, darling,’ came the very welcome reply and, with her heart singing happily, she hoicked her skirt up, her knickers down, and bent to her humble task, with the added pleasure of feeling relatively cool air on the naked skin of her parted buttocks and, especially welcome, on her hot fanny.

After that she was caned. By the time Elspeth sentenced her to the most severe punishment she had faced, Sophie had already begun to recover her equilibrium and so was able to react more normally to the prospect.

First, there was fear. The cane was, in her very limited knowledge, almost the ultimate threat. She had read the various articles covering its use in schools and the European Court’s judgements prohibiting it. It’s reputation sent shivers down her spine.

Second, there was gratitude. She knew she had committed her worst ever crime as far as Elspeth was concerned, and to be punished properly was absolutely right. Another reason for thanking her was that after she had sucked her toes - which had proved to be far nicer than she would have thought possible - Elspeth leaned forward, stroked her jutting bottom, and immediately suggested that she would appreciate a shower.

So, she was standing blissfully under the hissing spray, revelling in the sensation of accumulated tension disappearing down the drain. She hated being hot and sticky at the best of times, and if she had been forced to proffer a bottom which was anything other than pristine, she would have felt far too ashamed to have gained the full benefit from her punishment.

As she washed her buttocks, she stopped with a start. Elspeth hadn’t actually said that her bottom was to be the target. Wasn’t the cane used on the hands? She felt uneasy at the thought, standing stock still, with her lathered hand clutching her right cheek.

Her uneasiness developed into near panic at the prospect of presenting anything but her bottom. She tried to envisage what it would be like to hold out a hand to be beaten, and was convinced it would be far less satisfactory. For both of them. Elspeth definitely liked her bottom and Sophie found it hard to imagine that she would choose a less interesting and exciting target.

Relieved, she carried on washing herself and, as she did so, her recovering mind tried to analyse the importance of her bottom to her. She was still inexperienced enough to feel self-conscious when her knickers slithered down over her buttocks and she knew that Elspeth was looking at it. She couldn’t quite understand how bottoms could be truly beautiful, in spite of the nude statuettes and the painting over the fireplace, but if Elspeth said that hers was attractive, then that was good enough for her. So, when she presented it all bare for a spanking, there were two sources of pleasure. The first was that Elspeth presumably enjoyed the view, and the second was that being smacked on her bare bottom was inherently humiliating, which was exactly the way she wanted it.

She smiled to herself when she worked out that the fun spankings also contained an element of embarrassment, which also added to the intensity of the experience.

Then, having convinced herself that she was going to be beaten on her bottom - and in all probability with her knickers pulled down - she tried to imagine the degree of pain.

The hairbrush had come as a rude shock at first, but she soon found that she was able to cope with the escalation in pain, and had then risen to the challenge.

The cane would obviously challenge her far more, and she fought her growing nervousness with a determination to be as brave as she could be.

She was caned on her bare bottom.

It proved to be far more painful and testing than she had imagined.

She did rise to the occasion.

When it was at last over, Elspeth’s respect for her new slave had grown considerably. Everything was happening more quickly and satisfactorily than she had dared hope. Sophie’s hasty resignation had genuinely angered her at first, but the dear girl’s attitude since breaking the news was more than making up for it.

She had kissed her feet with an almost ideal combination of submissiveness and enthusiasm. The way she had offered to kneel there with her bottom naked had been a nice gesture, and had provided a delicious view.

As Elspeth had fetched the cane from its hiding place she heard the sound of the shower, and the thought of that curvy body, all pink and shining, made her look forward to the next hour or so even more keenly.

She was thrilled at the prospect of putting Sophie through her first really serious test. She had already proved herself to be Elspeth’s best ever conquest, even including Helen, her immediate predecessor. Elspeth stood for a moment, the cane swinging loosely in her hand, her head cocked slightly to one side as she compared the two, debating whether there was any point in getting in touch with Helen and spending a day or so with both together.

Perhaps, she thought, but not for some time. She briefly conjured up a vision of Helen’s bottom - bigger and softer than Sophie’s, and less shapely. Lovely tight division though. And she did miss the girl’s extraordinary ability to withstand pain. Twenty-four hard strokes with the crop had barely moved her.

Elspeth’s face cleared as she came to the conclusion that Sophie’s responsiveness to pain was just as satisfying and, most important of all, she was far more intelligent and entertaining company, and even the most submissive slave can’t be bending over all the time.

On that cheerful note she began to plan how best to introduce Sophie to the cane. By the time the object of her desires appeared, looking utterly adorable in a simple loose skirt, a white blouse, bare legs, and with her hair tied back in a suitably youthful pony-tail, all memories of Helen vanished.

She decided that she had two main objectives for the caning. Obviously the first and main one was to punish her. More severely than she was used to. That would be best achieved with six or a dozen proper strokes, all on her bare bottom and with the girl made to bend over in a position which made her bottom nicely prominent but without stretching the skin too much. Ideally, she would be aware that both her fanny and anus were visible, although Sophie was quite intelligent enough to work out that they could only be seen by someone directly behind her, whereas Elspeth would be standing to her side. That problem was easily solved by moving behind the girl after every stroke, ostensibly to check the effect but also to have a good look at every detail of her suffering bottom. Apart from the fact that Sophie still found having her bottom-hole examined embarrassing, it was one of the prettiest Elspeth had ever seen, and definitely worth looking at.

The other point of the exercise was to introduce her to new levels of pain, without running the risk of undoing all the good work of the past months. Elspeth was sure she could achieve both ends, but knew she would have to proceed with an element of caution.

She began by working on the girl’s mind, treating her gently, because she understood that the day’s events had left her pretty shell-shocked. She reminded her of her affection and then of the punishment awaiting her.

‘I am not going to give you a fixed number of strokes, darling, but to beat you in rather the same way I spank you. In other words, I’ll keep going until I feel that you’ve been adequately punished. Any questions?’

‘Er... just the one. You will be beating me on my bottom, won’t you? Not on my hands?’

Elspeth smiled. ‘Of course it’ll be on your bottom, you silly goose. I don’t want you to end up unable to do your chores. Oh, and bare, naturally.’

Sophie blushed and Elspeth saw the movement of her throat as she swallowed nervously. ‘Elspeth?’ she whispered.

‘Yes dear?’

‘I’d just like to say thank you. For beating my bare bottom and not throwing me out. I really will try and be good.’

‘A proper slave?’ Elspeth asked lightly.

‘Yes,’ Sophie replied, after a deep breath.

‘I really am pleased. Now, let’s get your beating over with. Then I can make a start with your enslavement.’

Her tone may have been light, but the implications were hardly lost on Sophie and, after an initial surge of doubt, she began to feel an expectant glow about her future.

But first she had to be beaten.

Nothing else mattered for the next half an hour or so, as Elspeth calmly and expertly orchestrated an experience she would never forget.

She moved smoothly through the preparations, starting by applying vaseline to the corners of her mouth, before producing a hard rubber ball gag.

‘Open wide,’ she said to the anxious girl, adding that she did not want her to feel inhibited about crying out with pain, but neither did she want the neighbours to be frightened. With Sophie’s first restraining device carefully inserted and with the straps firmly tied round her head, Elspeth made her stand for a moment with her hands on her head, while she walked slowly around her, savouring the view.

A very pretty girl, her blonde hair shining with health, looking delightfully traditional in her old-fashioned, flared summer dress, her plump little breasts heaving as she fought for breath, yet to work out how to breath properly.

Her eyes wide open with fear and gazing into the distance.

The gag giving her an open-mouthed look of sheer terror.

Trembling gently from head to foot.

Elspeth also noticed her head was held high and that she was refusing to let herself be defeated by the problems posed by the gag. She was already beginning to master the knack of slackening her mouth so she could breathe around the ball; yielding to the restraint, not battling helplessly against it. Excited by her looks and impressed with her attitude, Elspeth got down to the preparations for the beating.

She had decided to bend Sophie over the back of a suitable chair, knowing from long experience that it was just about the right height. So she guided the trembling girl into place and pressed down on her shoulders to make her bend over.

A little whimper escaped when Elspeth tied Sophie’s hands to the front legs, and another when she did the same to her feet, before completing the task of rendering her victim almost completely helpless by running more rope from each knee to the front legs of the chair, forcing them even further apart and bending them inwards.

She could then address the task of baring the girl’s beautifully presented bottom. The skirt rose easily and was soon folded neatly on her back, but her parted thighs made it impossible to pull her knickers down to her knees, and Elspeth was quite content to leave them tightly stretched about half way.

She could not resist helping herself to a lingering look at Sophie’s helplessly naked bottom, nor to a thorough feel, running her hands over each buttock in turn, enjoying the satiny skin and the way her fingers sank into the flesh, in spite of her bent position.

Then she picked up the cane, placed it carefully across the lowest part of Sophie’s trembling bottom, made a slight adjustment to her stance, and then settled down to beating those beautifully curved and widely separated globes with all the expertise at her disposal.

Her approach may have been considered unconventional but, given that she wanted to do more than simply punish Sophie, was undeniably effective. She spent the first couple of minutes flicking away at the girl’s helpless bottom, using her wrist more than her arm and with only the slightest pause between smacks. It was more of a spanking than a caning, but even so, her new slave’s buttocks quivered every time the cane landed and before long the individual lines left in its wake had all joined up, so that her whole bottom gleamed like a pink beacon in the subdued light.

Then it was time to introduce the punishment element. Elspeth was certain that Sophie would have found the overture more pleasant than painful, and a quick check confirmed the point. She was quite still, not fighting her bonds and breathing easily. She debated whether she should be kind and break the news that a proper stroke was on its way. The day before she certainly would have done, but Sophie was a slave now, and therefore less entitled to consideration. Apart from that, the shock of the unexpected would be good for her training.

With a tight smile she wiped her hand on the seat of her skirt, took a firm grip of the smooth yellow cane, took careful aim at the roundest part, and let fly. The flexible rod hummed through the air, sank into soft flesh and rebounded. Elspeth brought it up to her lips and kissed it absently as her glittering eyes feasted on Sophie’s reaction.

She had obviously been lulled into a sense of false security by the introduction, and the searing bite of a full-blooded stroke had come as a total shock. The gag effectively reduced her scream of pain to a choked gurgle, but the way her head flew up, the creaking of the chair as she strained against the smooth nylon ropes, her wildly staring eyes and reddening face, were all equally eloquent.

Elspeth moved round to crouch behind her, watching the tramline weal rise proud of the surrounding flesh and quickly darken. Satisfied that it was parallel to the floor and was evenly etched across both churning buttocks, she resumed her stance and began to flick the cane against Sophie’s much less relaxed bottom, reddening the skin slowly and steadily and watching carefully as Sophie began to relax, until her buttocks were quivering prettily. Then she drew the cane right back and delivered the second proper stroke.

All in all, the beating lasted a full thirty minutes and, by then, Sophie’s bottom had been reduced to two helplessly quivering mounds, both stained a lovely rich dark red and with five purple weals to add variety. Elspeth looked at her handiwork with excusable pride, especially pleased with the way she had used the tip of the cane in a concentrated assault on the left buttock, ensuring it was as well and thoroughly reddened as the right one.

The owner of the dramatically punished bottom was clearly at the end of her tether. She was slumped over the chair, with the only visible movement from Elspeth’s viewpoint an occasional muscular spasm, which made her thighs and buttocks shudder deliciously. Her breathing was short and fast, whistling through the confines of the gag. Her eyes were closed, her face bright red from the combination of pain and effort and marked with the drying tracks of her tears.

Elspeth resisted the temptation to begin her planned soothing session and took a firm grip of her cane. ‘Just one more stinger, darling, then it’ll all be over.’

A muffled sound from her left managed to communicate Sophie’s intense relief at the news, and Elspeth felt a surge of pleasure and pride as she saw the girl make a visible effort to present her bottom, pressing down with her legs to lift it up.

She had always maintained that the final stroke should be even more memorable than all that had preceded it, and long ago had worked out how best to achieve that admirable aim. She rose up on the tips of her toes, angled the cane so that it rested diagonally across Sophie’s quivering bottom, and let fly. With superb accuracy and with devastating effect the cane lashed in, crossing all five previous stingers and reviving the fading sting in each.

For the sixth time Sophie screamed and the chair creaked alarmingly before the last of her strength ebbed away and she slumped over the chair, weeping helplessly.

With a glow of triumph Elspeth untied her, helped her up, took out the gag, and held the sobbing girl close until she had recovered enough to stand upright without collapsing on the floor.

After that it was a simple matter to guide her over to the sofa, stretch her out across her lap and apply the special ointment, lovingly prepared by one of her close friends, whose interest in herbal remedies allowed her to gain almost as much satisfaction from restoring beaten bottoms as she did from marking them in the first place.

Then it was a light supper and an early night for Sophie, who slept like a log in spite of her aching buttocks, because every instinct reassured her that she had made the right choice and that from then on, her life would have the security she had subconsciously longed for.

Over the following three weeks Sophie had no cause to change her mind. Her new status made little difference to the basic friendship that had already grown between her and Elspeth. If she now had to call her mistress, it did not stop her making her views known on those relatively few subjects on which she was better informed, albeit considerably more diffidently than before.

They still shared the pleasures of music and art and Elspeth took the same amount of trouble to explain and enlighten as she had done previously.

She spent much of the time in the nude but had lost most of her modesty before her enslavement.

She was spanked more often and often much harder but learned to appreciate the pain, rather than simply accept it.

The main change was that Elspeth now expected those threatened intimate services on a regular and frequent basis.

Sophie had been introduced fairly gently, starting the day after her first beating, when Elspeth had decided that they should have a special dinner to celebrate the new arrangement. A caterer had supplied lobster salad and tirimasu, Elspeth’s cellar had produced a bottle of vintage champagne, posh frocks and jewellery had been put on and, as the dinner progressed, Sophie had gradually forgotten both her aching bottom and her less than happy immediate past. Elspeth had been on glittering form and their uninhibited laughter rang through the candlelit room.

Afterwards, with the washing-up left for the following morning, they had taken coffee and port into the sitting room, comfortably nestling together on the sofa in companionable silence. Sophie had enjoyed little exposure to the finer things in life and the delicious food and wine, the strange formality on which Elspeth had insisted, had all made her feel rather out of her depth at first. Then she had relaxed and was just thinking how to broach the delicate subject of showing her gratitude, when Elspeth forestalled her.

‘Strip naked, darling,’ she ordered.

Blinking in pleased surprise, Sophie scrambled to her feet and obeyed, soon standing stark naked, except for her silver bracelet and black choker. She looked so gorgeous, standing there at attention, pale and rounded, her head held high but with her usual anxious expression on her pretty face, that Elspeth stared for even longer than usual. Then, with her juices beginning to flow copiously, she issued her instructions.

Sophie happily knelt, slipped off Elspeth’s expensive shoes, and bent her mouth to feet and toes, feeling a glow of satisfaction at the sighs of pleasure.

The glow intensified when she was calmly informed that she had earned the right to see Elspeth’s bare bottom. She watched with bated breath as those lovely slender hands inched black skirt up shapely legs and round thighs until her unblinking eyes focused on the seat of a pair of diaphanous black knickers. She did not notice Elspeth holding the skirt under her elbows, but just her freed hands moving down to her waist, tucking her thumbs under the elastic and, wide-eyed, she followed the slow unveiling.

Her breath gusted out as the rumpled knickers slithered down to Elspeth’s ankles and, keenly aware that she was very privileged to be allowed to look, stared open-mouthed, still innocent enough to feel slightly embarrassed at the close view of another woman’s naked bottom, but sufficiently advanced to appreciate its beauty.

Then she was ordered to kiss it. Every inch.

Her head began to swim as she breathed in the complex perfume, consisting mainly of feminine skin and expensive soap. Her lips brushed the top of Elspeth’s left cheek, and she gasped at the feel of warm satin against them.

Even the gentlest pressure of her mouth made it sink into the softness of Elspeth’s flesh.

She ran her pursed mouth down the cleft, where it was even smoother and warmer. Bending her head back, she managed to follow the tight division until it disappeared between the thighs.

Then Elspeth broke the charged silence. ‘I’m going to bend forward a little, and you are going to part my buttocks and kiss my anus.’

Sophie was too far gone even to contemplate hesitation, and slowly reached up, placed a hand on each cheek, pressed in with her thumbs and eased the cleft open, holding her breath and swallowing nervously.

She was relieved to find that being so close to another woman’s bottom-hole wasn’t unpleasant, and so she could concentrate on enjoying the total subservience of the gesture.

Her gorge rose a little when she was ordered to lick it, but she obeyed and was able to control herself. Then the volume and frequency of Elspeth’s sighs of pleasure increased, which helped.

Then Elspeth told her to stop for a moment and knelt on the sofa, thrusting her bottom right out, exposing everything.

‘Lick my cunt, Slave Sophie, and if you please me I’ll let you share my bed tonight.’

She moved forward immediately, too surprised at first to take in the unexpected crudeness, just desperate to earn the right to sleep in her mistress’s arms.

The heady, musky scent which reached her nose, proving that she had done well up to that point, thrilled her and, boldly resting her hands on the tautened buttocks framing her target, she applied her mouth with an instinctive expertise.