Emma’s trials


Emma had been under Mildred’s tutelage for a month now. On three occasions she had almost left, but something had held her. She was totally out of her depth, a point underpinned after the first week when Mildred had written out a resignation from her job and demanded that Emma sign it. It was the only time she even attempted to defy her new mistress. Even as the word formed as thought in her mind, she felt herself falling into the abyss.

That refusal had cost her the last of her dignity, not to mention that it had robbed her of all sitting down privileges for a week. Of course, she had signed almost at once, but too late to save her tender bottom.

Mildred had spanked her at once. She had sat on the sofa and put Emma across her knee. Emma had only struggled a little, accustomed as she was becoming to submission.

“Look I don’t see why…” Emma had protested.

Mildred had ignored her and merely flipped up the little skirt she had been permitted to wear to reveal her bare bottom beneath.

“Jenny the hall brush if you please.” Mildred had barked.

“Look please I am not ready to give everything up just yet.” Emma had said almost conversationally, a ridiculous tone to take when one is bare-bottomed over another woman’s knee.

Jenny appeared almost at once and handed Mildred the brush. Emma blushed, she was still not used to such humiliating and public surrender. To make matters worse Jenny smirked a little.

“Alright you can go.” Mildred said sternly.

Jenny returned a little pout of disappointment but did as she was told.

The spanking had been hard and fast. Emma had struggled and wailed from the start and after only two minutes she had started to cry.

“Alright I’ll do it if you think I should.” Emma had begged.

The spanking had continued for at least five minutes before Mildred had set on her feet.

“Alright sign it quickly.”

Emma had obeyed barely able to read the words for her tears.

“Good. Now Jenny will post it in the morning. As for you young lady, you will learn never to say no to me again.”

“But I signed.” Emma wailed rubbing her bottom.

“Of course you signed, but you said no to me.”

What had followed had been quite difficult. Emma was led to the dungeon and stripped naked. Then she had been belted at the waist with a broad double-strapped affair with cuffs at the small of the back. After that she had been forced into a kneeling position so that the second part of the harness could be belted around her thighs. This left her well-secured and bent double with her bottom pointing upwards.

To make matters worse, the whole operation had been carried out by Jenny who took every opportunity to gloat at Emma’s discomfort.

It seemed to take an age for Mildred to reappear and when she did, she was dressed from head to toe in leather, a sure sign that Emma was in for an ordeal.

“Give the girl an enema and the lay out the paddle straps, heavy paddles and whipcords.” Mildred said dismissively.

Jenny grabbed Emma by her hair at this command and leered in her face.

“Get on with it. Do a good job and you can stay.” Mildred barked.

Three whole enemas later Emma felt thoroughly cleansed and as humble as it was possible to feel. She had sobbed throughout the procedures and the punishment proper had yet to even begin.

“Will you ever disobey me again?” Mildred whispered in her ear.

“No I swear.” Emma said emphatically.

“You swear do you?” Mildred laughed.

“Oh god yes.” Emma babbled.

“You know you must be punished?” Mildred cocked an eyebrow so that Emma knew her answer was a test.

“Yes, yes. Severely ma’am.” Emma almost begged. Only not too hard, she thought.

Mildred leaned over and took Emma by the chin. Then shrugged.

“No I can’t be bothered with you.”

All Emma’s emotions were written on her face at this statement, chief among them was disappointment.

“Ma’am?” Emma’s voice had a hint of panic and her breath had come hard and fast.

“Do you think I should bother with you then?” Mildred had asked.

“Oh Ma’am… I don’t…” Emma’s confusion had been plain.

“A simple enough question.” Mildred had shrugged again.

“Yes ma’am I am sorry.” Emma gushed.

“So you need to be punished?”

Emma’s back had been hurting by this time.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Emma whispered.

“Answer me.” Mildred had bellowed.

“Yes.” Emma’s voice had been small.

Mildred had picked up one of the paddles and had demanded that she kiss it.

“Ask me to chastise you more than I have before.” Mildred ordered.

Emma had nodded. It was all she had had the strength for and seeing that it was not enough she had frantically kissed and licked at the paddle. It had kissed her back.

The spanking had been long and hard. After that abrasive straps and nylon ‘birches’ had been followed by the taws. Finally she had been released to stand at the pillory. More had followed, much more.

That had been three weeks before. Now she had a new trial. Today he came.

Emma had been nervous all morning. It had been the first time in a while that she had been allowed to dress in anything approaching street-wear. The picture of conformity she now presented felt strangely more constrained than the submissive garb that had become the norm over the past few weeks.

Jenny had been resentful of Emma’s, albeit temporary, rise in status and only that morning been severely spanked. Emma had enjoyed the spectacle of Jenny over Mildred’s knee as her bare bottom was turned to a decided polished red. Jenny’s subsequent tears and exile to the corner had been an added treat.

Jenny made quite a picture as she stood even now with her skirts held neatly in the small of her back above her recently reddened bare bottom. Jenny’s bottom was quite something, Emma observed. It was exquisitely tight and smallish while it retain an opulent prominence that took the form of two firm high-set spheres. The other characteristic of her bottom was its almost supernatural smoothness. This was only enhanced when it carried, as it did now, a deep red sheen. How does Mildred spank so? She could put a red polish on a bottom that could last for hours if not days. Emma found it within herself to smile, she doubted that at this moment Jenny appreciate the ascetics of her spanking. Indeed, she could almost feel her pout without seeing it, turned as the girl’s face was, to the wall.

When the doorbell rang Emma was not ready for it. What was she to do? Jenny could not answer it and yet she had been told to remain in the library. After an age of uncertainty Mildred appeared. She glided with her accustomed elegance past the opened library door down the hall.

“How nice to see you again Charles.” Mildred simpered.

He was here then, Emma thought as her stomach churned.

He was reasonably handsome and not too old. He was neither tall nor short, although for a man who might be above 40, he was in rare shape.

“You must be Emma.” He said as he stepped forward to shake her hand.

His voice was easy, devoid of menace or leer, more a tone of a team leader than a… she could not say the word even in her head. His handshake was a little too firm and he held her hand just a little too long.

“Yes.” She managed, nodding like china bulldog in the back of a car.

He turned and regarded Jenny in the corner his smile was paternal.

“I see someone has been misbehaving.”

“Yes she…” Emma did not know what to say. Why am I behaving like a teenager? She thought angrily.

“Jenny forgot her place.” Mildred said tartly.

“It happens.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t it Mildred?”

“Yes Charles.” Mildred blushed and glanced at Emma with a look of sheer embarrassment.

“Perhaps some tea.” He said as an order.

Mildred smiled curtly and glided out of the room.

“Come on let us sit down and get to know one another.” Charles said as he indicated a chair.


Charles called once a week after that. On one occasion Emma learnt that he had an elaborate life style and was a bit of a collector. One of his collections was of submissives. He explained that he had many layers of such women, all with different needs. Some served him abjectly, others were close friends like Mildred. I was surprised to hear Mildred described as a submissive and said so.

“Would you like to see me spank her?” He laughed.

“Yes.” I blurted.

He frowned.

“Do you think that is a nice thing to say?”

“No. I am sorry, it’s just…”

“Bend over and touch your toes.” He said simply.

“What? I mean why? I mean…” Emma stuttered.

He sighed and shook his head.

Emma swallowed and stood up.

“I was rude about Mildred I am sorry. I deserve it, I know.” Emma blushed.

Charles didn’t answer but studied her carefully. Emma turned around and bent over. She felt silly in such a position in front of this man. After a long while, he stood up and went to Mildred’s desk. He returned with a cane.

Emma licked her lips nervously as he raised her skirts and hooked his finger in the waistband of her knickers. When he didn’t lower them, she looked around. The cane was tucked under his arm and he was watching her.

“If you submit to me three times I will own you unto death.” He said.

She almost laughed, but the look on his face said he was deadly serious.

“I understand.” She breathed.

“No. No you don’t.” He smiled. “Once you are mine, you will live beyond all rules of normal society. I will decide if and when you will see me. Whether you are a Jenny or a Mildred, a faceless slave or a beloved pet.”

“But I want…” She gasped. What did she want?

“No, no. What you want is nothing to me. In fact, it is nothing to you. Do you have what you want? Have you ever had what you wanted?”

Bent over as she was, she felt at ease somehow. She considered his words. She had nothing and always would unless… She thought of years of lonely longing. Reading trashy novels in the hopes of finding a spanking in them.

“Do you know what you want?” He continued.

“Yes.” She said wistfully. Then added sadly. “No.”

A tear formed in her eye, as if she had just lost something.

“I promise you three things.” He said kindly. “You will never be harmed, even through neglect; you will get what you need; and once you have been tried and tested the only freedom and happiness you will ever know will be through submission to me.”

“If I submit three times.” She said sucking in her cheeks.

“Yes.” Charles said with finality.

“Cane me please sir.” Emma said, her heart leaping.

He pulled down her briefs to her mid thigh baring her bottom. He gasped a little.

“I have seen pictures but you are special.” He spoke, but not to her.

As Emma puzzled over when Mildred might have managed to take pictures. She did not consider this for long as the first stroke bisected her bottom. She gasped. She knew at once that this was different.

All colour seemed to bleach out of the room and the pain, as yet removed from her, was sharp. Then full colour returned as she became one with her bottom.

“Ow.” She yelped.

He caned her again laying the next below the first extracting another yelp. It was hard for Emma to stay in place as stroke followed stroke, each descending ever lower until they were biting her upper thighs.

By now she was crying freely, “stop please,” she said through gritted teeth as she gripped her thighs. To her relief he didn’t.

Instead he ignored her, placing a few strokes high before descending again.

“How many is that?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” She wailed.

“Next time count or I will begin over.” Charles said giving her six more until her knees buckled. “Alright stand up.”

She stood up stiffly with a grimace her hands fluttering around her bottom, but she did not dare rub, Mildred had taught her well.

“Go to the corner and stay there and I will see you next week.”


Charles was to see her the next week and every week after that. Each time Emma had both longed for and dreaded his coming, yet each time he was the perfect gentleman and they did nothing but converse.

Then one day he said, “have you decided?”

She was taken aback but knew at once, what he was referring to.

“I think I decided that day you caned me.” She said, finding the courage to look him in the eye.

“So be it.” He inclined his head. “It is time to put affairs in order. You will return to your flat and say your goodbyes to any you need to. Then you will make arrangements as if you are going away for a long time. Mildred will take charge of your financial arrangements and will take your passport.”

Emma swallowed. Was this all some elaborate con? She knew in her heart it was not.

“Nearer the time you will be given a precise set of instructions. You must follow them to the letter.”


The weeks dragged by and Emma was allowed home to her lonely flat. The TV, which she once used to watch in the hope of the smallest spanking reference, seemed lame now. Her books, even her favourites with great spanking excerpts, held no interest.

She called a few friends but no one seemed that important. Even what little family she had was distant.

“Mother I am going away for a few months.” She had finally telephoned her mother. She had not known what to say.

“That’s nice dear, will we see you before you go?” Her mother had said with her usual matter-of-factness.

An afternoon ‘at home’ had been dull and her mother had even watched the omnibus edition of some soap or other as she half listened to everything Emma didn’t say.

“Goodbye mother.” She whispered as she left.

“Goodbye dear.” Her mother said absently her eyes never leaving the television.

Then the letter had finally come.

She was to dress in her best clothes, but pack nothing. Mildred would close up her flat. She was to take a taxi to Cleopatra’s Needle in London at one in the morning and wait for further instructions.

On the morning in question she waited over an hour before another taxi arrived. The taxi pulled up on the Embankment and a door opened. She waited, so did the taxi.

“I’m Emma, are you waiting for me?” She tried tentatively.

“Fares paid for.” The driver said.

“Where are you taking me?” She persevered.

But nothing was forthcoming, so she shrugged and got in the back. The journey was a short one. Just across the river to a beach in Rotherhithe. At that time of the morning it was deserted, not that she imagined anyone much ever set foot on the old Thames mud banks at any time of the day.

The only thing on the beach that did not look like it belonged was a brazier. It was burning driftwood, but strangely, there was no sign of footprints to suggest that it was being tended. She waited.

After an hour, Emma was cold and all her earlier fear was gone. She felt empty. It was gone three before a boat silently beached at the low water mark. A man jumped from the prow of the half-cabin cruiser followed by what looked like two women.

“You came. I am glad.” Charles was smiling as if they had met for coffee.

“What happens now?” Emma asked, still devoid of emotion.

“You remember what I said?”

Emma glanced at the two women. They were almost completely covered in dark hooded cloaks from head to foot with only their faces showing. She had never spoken intimately with Charles in front of others before.

“Yes.” Emma nodded hoping she was thinking of the same thing as him. “Three times.”

“That’s right. Say it aloud.”

Emma suddenly felt self-conscious and eyed the women apprehensively.

“If I submit to you three times, you will own me.” Emma said boldly.

“You have submitted once. Do you again?”

“I am here aren’t I?” Emma pouted; she was tired of all the games.

He fixed her with a hard stare.

“Sorry.” She looked down and felt genuinely ashamed.

“Then undress. Everything.” Charles said with finality.


Emma stood nude upon the riverbank with one arm across her breasts and the other clutching at her sex. It was cold and mud was wet under her feet. The two women appraised her openly with a smirk and not a little lust in their eyes. Charles studied her with a sense of accomplishment.

“Kneel.” He said with command in his voice.

Her throat tightened, but she did as she was told, her knees causing two imprints on the wet shore. He moved nearer and loomed over her. As his shadow moved over her she could see a faint trace of her breath in the cool night air, she was panting hard, she realised.

“Are you sure?” He whispered.

“Yes.” She said with a little gasp.

“Then throw your clothes into the fire.”

“What?” She started but she saw he was serious and hastened to obey.

“What about these?” She asked holding up her bank and credit cards as she watched her things burn.

“Those too.”

The plastic melted along with her old life. She glanced at the women their expressions were blank, but now she looked there was some kindness about their eyes. A look of acceptance perhaps, she thought.

Charles smiled encouragingly and nodded as he placed a single finger on her head and gently pressed her head down.

“Kiss my boot.” His voice sounded like a sigh.

She bent over and kissed his foot eagerly submitting to him for the second time.

He stooped at this and took her face in his hands and kissed her brow.

“Take her to the boat.” He said suddenly and walked away.

The two women helped her to her feet and took an arm each. They led her to the boat where Charles already stood staring into the night. It was then that Emma noticed another woman at the wheel. She was dressed as a sailor and took no notice of Emma’s nudity.

“Its cold.” She whispered. The brazier had supplied more heat than she realised and now the river wind began to bite.

“What of it?” He shrugged.

Emma was made to kneel naked on the floor of the cockpit. The women sat either side of her like guards. Her mind raced and she felt an excitement she had never known. She was naked. In every sense, she had nothing. It felt like freedom. This was at odds with her posture. Kneeling with her hands clasped behind her and her head bowed. It was a posture of submission that Mildred had taught her. She hoped he liked it.

The boat went some way up river and after a while he draped a cloak like the women wore over her but left her kneeling. The sense of unreality left her at this and she looked about her. The boat had left the city behind and there were trees and the odd large house on the bank. Day was already breaking when they turned off into a cut surrounded by trees.

The jetty where they landed had a welcoming committee. There were two men in Georgian dress, although without wigs, and several women dressed as she was. The women were all holding flaming torches and were arranged in two lines. Six to the left and seven to the right, they were all quite young, none over 35 and all very beautiful.

“Welcome sister.” One of the women said as she stepped forward to kiss Emma on the mouth.

“Disrobe.” One of the men called impatiently. They had probably been waiting a long time.

Emma wondered if he was talking to her, but all the women, even her two escorts dropped their hooded robes and stood naked on the riverbank. Until Mildred, she had never considered herself bisexual, but the women took her breath away with their beauty.

“Are you not going to join us?” The woman who had kissed her asked.

Emma could not draw a breath to reply, but allowed her robe to fall until she too stood naked. Then led by Charles and they all processed to a nearby house, a grand affair like the home of some lord.


They were led into a hall with a minstrels’ gallery. Emma no longer felt so self-conscious, unless it was to feel like an ugly duckling before such naked beauty. She glanced up and saw several men and women in Georgian clothes and masks watching from the gallery. But her eyes were drawn to the leather-padded ‘horse’ in the centre of the room. Next to it, was a bucket containing several birch rods.

Emma knew this was for her and her final submission. She hung back and considered fleeing but her two naked escorts took her arms and led her forward.

“Will it hurt?” She panted her feet reluctant to aid in her long walk.

“A great deal.” One of the women whispered.

“But…” Emma desperately wanted to say something.

“Shush. After the first stroke its not so bad.” The other woman breathed into her ear.

“After the first stroke you are his and nothing you do or say is of any importance.” The first woman whispered again with a giggle to her voice.

“Be quiet there or I’ll blister both your arses.” One of the men spoke.

There was general laughter at this and the escort fell silent.

Emma did her best not to struggle as she was bent over the horse to be secured. Her arms were strapped to the far side so that her bottom was elevated high and helpless.

“Are you mine Emma?” Charles said in a loud voice.

Emma nodded, although few could see.

“Emma? Do you submit?” Evidently Charles could not see her nod and demanded she speak.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded weak and lost in that room.

There was someone by her head. It was Charles. He held out the long judicial style birch rod to her lips. She regarded it quizzically and then on instinct kissed it.

“Good girl.” Charles whispered.

She heard him move behind her and every muscle tensed.

There was an audible hush in the room and the seconds hung in the air. Emma’s mouth was dry and the skin on her bottom itched. She shifted a little in her position draped as she was over the birching horse and felt her thighs slick together. They can all see, she realised in horror.

Afterwards she could not say if she heard it or felt it first. There was a dry rasp and swoosh. The crack shook the room but for Emma there was only pain, like a thousand needles in her bottom all at once.

“Huh yah.” She screamed.

Her bottom fizzed and the sting grew but he did not wait. The second was worse. She struggled to draw a breath even as the third stroke of the rod sliced her bottom. Then she found her true voice.

He waited after that and she lay panting and vulnerable, she realised that she was bathed in sweat. She had never been so aware of her bottom before, she could feel the twin domes burn and throb behind and above her, almost as if they belonged to someone else. Which of course they did, they were now his.

He crouched down in front of her and held her chin.

“You have submitted thrice.” He smiled.

“Yes.” She smiled through the tears.

“Shall I stop now?”

Oh god yes, she wailed inwardly. It hurts. But she was lying. She needed more. What to say?

“Shall I stop?” He said again.

Then she knew this was a test of sorts and she felt relieved that she had no decision to make.

“I have no say.” She sobbed.

He smiled.

“This could take a while.” He said to the room.

There was some applause and a party began all around them.

I am his she smiled to herself. Then he struck again and again and she screamed. Her trial had just begun.


6 Responses to “Emma’s trials”

  1. 1 opsimath

    An excellent story, and quite up to the standards of literate and erotic fiction we have come to expect to find here.

    Very well done, Damian – you have a true flair for this kind of writing – you are a lucky man to have such a gift.

    A Voice in the Corner – literate erotica for lovers of specialist subjects!

  2. Nice story I really liked it.

  3. 3 cindy

    This is sophisticated erotica. It is a rarity to find someone who can write in this manner.

    As someone who has herself received enemas and also been punished on her bottom and displayed, I can identify with how Emma may have felt. The enemas tell you that even your insides do not belong to you. The punishments on your bottom–espeically when you try to hold still for them–tell you that you want the love and attention of the person doing this to you so much that s/he has enlisted you as a participant in your own punishment. Even if you are positioned so you can not see them looking at you (corner time in my case), you know they are looking at you and this does something to your mind. But something you want it to do. That doesn’t mean you don’t struggle with what has gone on. You do. But you come down on the side of needing it.


  1. 1 chross.blogt.ch - Chross Guide To The Spanking Internet

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