Choices (4 of 6)



Our story began here.

The two hours that Lucy spent facing the wall in the courtyard with her bare bottom displayed to the world were the worst of her life. The first 40 minutes she raged impotently, resolving by turns to leave the hell hole in which she found herself and then to tough it out until the day she could come back and kill them all. The trouble was, every time someone passed behind, regardless if they laughed or ignored her, she felt foolish, small even and all energy was immediately diverted away from her anger. This alternating ordeal between shame and rage drained her until she began to cry again. If Vernon had been there she would bawled like a baby and told him she was sorry. It entirely escaped her notice that in her mind she was submitting to him and not Karl.

Then finally it dawned on her, it did not matter what she did. She was here and had to make the best of it. She was no better than anyone else. At this epiphany her ears burned with a blush so fierce that the blood drained from her brain until she felt feint.

Just about then Karl came back to release her from her humble bondage. Then things got worse to a point. There was no fanfare or recognition that she had learned her lesson. She was just handed a broom and told to sweep the yard with her bottom left on show. This time she had no anger to shield her and gaped at him in total defeat. If she had been religious she would have prayed for paving stones to give way beneath her feet so that she could be swallowed whole by Mother Earth.

Instead it was all she could do to protest with a small squeak of, “But…”

“You sweep the yard all day, and keep it swept. Do you understand?” Karl barked at her. “That is unless you want to come back into the stable for another taste of my cane now.”

“Yes Sir.” The words tumbled out with an eagerness that made her cringe.

“I’ll give you the last six just before dinner tonight. Something for you to sit on.”

The rest of the day was a miserable embarrassing grind and she had never felt so alone.


After that it was never so bad. Lucy decided it was like school and in the days that followed she felt less picked on as Carol-Anne, Patsy and the others were all in it with her.

Carol-Anne positively thrived and seemed ever eager to please Vernon and his staff, taking her occasional punishment in her stride. Lucy suspected that no one had ever paid her so much attention in her life.

To Patsy it was just one more environment she had to survive and she never tired of exploring all the angles.

The worst thing for Lucy was the private sessions with Vernon Cornwall. Although he had already as good as admitted he was a pervert, he insisted on mentoring sessions designed to rehabilitate the women. From the first she feared the worse and had sat through his first session convinced that at any moment he would give her a spanking. Sitting there while he asked questions and patiently waited for her give answers had been difficult sitting as she was on hard ridges of pain chafing at the place that made the most intimate contact with the chair.

Her eyes had been drawn to his hands all the while he had been talking. She noted his manly thick wrists and the way in which his heavy arms filled the sleeve of his suit jacket. He had broad rugby shoulders, complimented by his jacket and shifted awkwardly as she remembered going over his knee while he spanked her with the full weight of his physique. She barely heard a word he said right up to the moment he let her go; still not spanked.

Lucy bristled at this, she knew full well that Carol-Anne barely escaped a session with him without a spanking, but except for that one time, Vernon had been content to leave her discipline to Karl. What was it about Carol-Anne that got his attention?

However, Vernon Cornwall was the least of her problems. Patsy, she found out, was a ghoul for all this corporal punishment stuff and took every opportunity to witness someone on the hard end of Karl. Even if she could manipulate the man to employ his cane more often than he otherwise might. This wouldn’t have been so bad, but it seemed to Lucy that she had a chip on her shoulder about Lucy being posh, so her favourite sport was landing Lucy right in it.

Two weeks after arriving the three of them had been set to cleaning the yard. Not just sweeping, but washing windows and collecting all litter and anything else that didn’t belong.

They had been at it all morning when Karl made a snap inspection.

“Why haven’t the windows at the far end been done yet?” he growled.

“Oh, don’t be cross,” Patsy said with a wheedling smile, “We have done our best really we have. Couldn’t you give her more time?”

“Give who more time?” Karl narrowed his, momentarily distracted by Patsy’s apparent concern for someone else.

“Well, we agreed that Lucy would do that end, but well… she’s not used to manual work,” Patsy put in helpfully.

Lucy gaped at her and supressed an exasperated groan. It was true that Lucy should have done the windows, but Patsy had been calling her to help every five minutes. Claiming that as a city girl she didn’t know what do.

“Is this true?” Karl asked Lucy, “Did you agree to do the windows at that end?”

“Uh… yes but…” Lucy began.

“Don’t yes but me,” Karl snapped, “Come with me. You girls, since you are so much better than Lucy, you can finish up here and it had better be done by the time I get back.”

Lucy gaped at Patsy and blustered as she hurried after Karl as he walked to stable block.

Patsy shrugged and offered the scurrying Lucy an innocent glance. Then as soon as Karl and Lucy had disappeared into the room, she ambled after them.

“Pats, where are you going? You heard what he said,” Carol-Anne wailed.

“Clean the windows, there’s a sport, after all you don’t want to get us walloped do you?” Patsy said casually as she strolled to the door to the stables.

By the time she got there, she was able to get a clear view through the crack in the door. Lucy was already bare-bottomed and bending over the trestle. Karl had taken the trouble to instruct her to thrust her bottom up properly and Patsy was treated to Lucy’s angry red inverted face glowering through her legs from under the trestle. Undignified, Patsy smirked, this was too much fun.

The cane landed with a loud crisp thwack that left a hard line of white across Lucy’s bottom. From her position, Patsy could enjoy the jaw-tightened grimace of Lucy’s discomfort and then watch as the pain flooded her face even as the red poured into the white stripe leaving it swollen and plum-stained.

Karl was an expert and he was through being soft on the posh girl. He lay on the heavy strokes with biting proficiency, putting stroke after stroke one below the other at regular intervals. By six her eyes were pooled with tears and puce little patches had developed on each cheek of her face.

After 12 strokes, Lucy began shouting out at each impact and the lines on her bottom had swollen to ridges fit to burst. Karl made sure that the cane strokes on the under curves of her bottom were close on one another to give her something interesting to sit on; or better yet leave her standing for a day or two. Then carefully and slowly he started at the top again and worked his way down filling in the spaces.

Patsy had to lean on the door post and grab her groin as she breathed through an open mouth for the last strokes. They were all laid on top of previous marks at the tighter end where formerly Lucy had been able to sit as she screamed out prettily as they landed. For Patsy the broken full on childish sobbing was a bonus.

“Now you lazy brat, get out there on your hands and knees and start scrubbing the courtyard floor,” Karl ordered.

Patsy spent a lovely lunch watching Lucy’s welted behind bobbing up and down as she worked a foot long scrubber without a handle back and forth while on her knees.

To be continued.

3 Responses to “Choices (4 of 6)”

  1. 1 paul1510

    that Patsy is a right b***h, I hope that she gets her just desserts. 🙂
    I’m really enjoying this. 😀

  2. I hope Patsy gets her just desserts, too. Its most unfair to Lucy that Karl won’t even listen to her side of the situation. I can also understand her confusion, and possibly even hurt feelings, at Vernon’s behaviour, even though if I were Lucy, I wouldn’t be so eager(?) for a spanking.

    Very good story, this. I’m liking this better than Ad Astra and Magic, I must admit.

  3. 3 Mark

    I liked this. Personally, I like Magic better. The elaborate and imaginative and entirely new background story of Magic adds interest and improves the spanking. A simple spanking story, well done, is always good. Magic is more than that.

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