Memoirs of a Lady’s Companion (part 2 of 2)

15Nov12

companion otk

Part one here.

I had been with Eugenia for a year when we first met the Laithwaites. We were in Venice at the time and I have an abiding memory of sunshine and ladies in white lace dresses.

The Laithwaites were a mother and daughter also travelling alone on account of the widowhood of Mrs Laithwaite.

This widow, Elisabeth Laithwaite, was a comely 34 or so, having been introduced to marriage and motherhood while still very young. A state of affairs that about which Eugenia was not slow to express her disapproval.

However, rather than being offended, Elisabeth concurred with Eugenia and openly lamented the situation.

It soon became clear that the lack of a father and a young mother had inclined Lucy Laithwaite, her 18-year-old daughter, towards being an utter brat.

“There is nothing I can do with the girl,” Elisabeth had moaned, “She is so rude and not fit company for polite society.”

“Oh do shut up mother,” Lucy said in an imperious voice that pretended at a wisdom and poise she did not possess.

Even Eugenia was dumbfounded by the outburst and she had seen it all.

“Have you considered a finishing school?” Eugenia suggested.

“Oh please,” Lucy said in a bored voice, “What a completely preposterous idea. Mother, don’t think for one moment that I will entertain such a notion.”

“I am afraid that Lucy has been expelled from a great many schools,” Elisabeth said in a low voice as if afraid her daughter would hear. “I tried to place her in a perfectly lovely school near Geneva last year. It didn’t… end well. Now no one will take her.”

“Oh, I think I know of a school that would take her, Eugenia said casually.

“Oh heavens spare me,” Lucy said, rolling up her eyes. “If you want rid of me, then marry me off why don’t you?”

“Because no man will have you, you…” Elisabeth’s outburst was clearly unusual and hinted at the inner turmoil the woman was suffering.

Lucy, seemingly uncomfortable with her mother’s outburst flounced off and went and stood at the rail overlooking the canal.

I remember her still; a short slender girl with all too knowing eyes and a tumble of white-blonde tresses and big blue eyes. I think that day she wore her hair up and her dress was a blinding white in the sun, but that is not how I think of her now for things were about to change for Lucy and indeed for us all in different ways.

“You see, there is nothing to be done with the girl, I have quite ruined her,” Elisabeth said, suddenly bursting into tears.

The outburst drew my attention back to the conversation.

“Nonsense,” Eugenia soothed her, “I was serious before, I do know a school that would be the making of Lucy. Shall I tell you about it?”

*

“This is absolutely ridiculous, I will not wear it,” Lucy Laithwaite raged.

Eugenia and I watched her petulant outburst dispassionately but her mother Elisabeth sat wringing her hands and looked as if she might give way to her daughter as she always had.

We had come up with a plan, or should I say Eugenia had for it was she who had made all the arrangements and who had talked Elisabeth into a certain course of action. The three of us had descended on the hapless Lucy and while Eugenia instructed the hotel maid to lay out some new clothes. Meanwhile, I had gathered up her old ones until her wardrobes were quite empty. These items were to be placed in a trunk for return to London to eliminate any possibility that Lucy could circumvent our preparations.

Then we waited for Lucy, a rather late riser, to get up.

“Mother, what were you thinking? Can you not see that these people are mad?” Lucy accused in bitter tones.

“Mad are they, well I think I have been mad to let you get away with such behaviour for so long. Your father must be restless in his grave,” Elisabeth returned angry.

It was the most spirited I had yet seen her.

“Your mother has engaged my services as an impromptu governess of sorts,” Eugenia explained, “And it has been decided to send you off to finishing school in England.”

“What?” Lucy exclaimed.

At that moment she looked like a harridan and to complete the impression she seized a hairbrush from her nightstand and hurled at her mother. I was shocked at such behaviour and Elisabeth was clearly shaken.

Lucy followed up her latest outrage with a string of unladylike language and a reassertion of her conviction not to wear the clothing that had been set out for her.

In truth I couldn’t blame her and I remember that I had trouble hiding my amusement. For the clothes set out were childish in nature and more suited to a girl under 16. They consisted of a knee-length skirt in blue with a sailor-style collar that was large and showy beyond the vogue of the time even for older nursery-aged girls. There were also buckled shoes, white lacy petticoats and blue hair ribbons.

“I won’t wear it, I won’t, I won’t,” Lucy continued with her outburst.

However, Eugenia had no sympathy and only sighed.

“I see we will have to take sterner measures,” she said.

Then without another word she picked up the thrown hairbrush, which thankfully had missed its target and advanced on the monstrous brat that was Lucy.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” Lucy said anxiously, now perhaps sensing some peril.

“I am going to do what your mother should have done a long time ago,” Eugenia replied sharply as she pulled the straining Lucy from her bed and struggled with her across her knee.

“Let me go, please, what are you doing?” Lucy shrieked along with other such protests.

Ultimately they were to no avail and Lucy was soon sprawling across Eugenia’s lap like a spitting she-cat. Then Eugenia reached for the base of Lucy’s nightgown and began to roll the linen up the length of the girl’s legs until her smooth firm white thighs heaved into view.

“We must resolve this matter here and now,” Eugenia said as she fixed Elisabeth with a hard stare.

Elisabeth was ashen-faced, but she returned a tiny nod of approval.

Eugenia set her mouth and the last veil of Lucy’s modesty was lifted to reveal the two astonishingly white pert domes of her bare bottom. I gasped.

“Stop it,” Lucy shrieked.

By way of an answer Eugenia brought the brush down with a loud crack, quickly following it with a second and third until sting-filled pink blotches appeared and rapidly began to merge.

I noticed that Elisabeth held a hand to her mouth and looked decidedly pensive, but also I think, Lucy’s violent outburst had been the final straw for her. Given what was to follow I think all concerned can take no issue with the methods employed.

Up to this point Lucy had taken her spanking well and once it was clear she could not prevent it, she had clamped her jaw shut and opted for taking the rest in sullen silence. I think if she had been of better grace this level of acceptance might have been deemed enough for a first spanking, but too much had transpired and I could see that Eugenia was determined to gain a full submission from the girl.

The spanking was fast and hard leaving Lucy’s bare bottom an angry all-over red. However, the only sign that the girl was struggling with it was her moist blinking stares and her increasingly ragged breathing.

“You will not best me young lady,” Eugenia growled as she drew back her arm even further and landed yet more great fluid blows with the flat side of that worthy brush.

Then with a heavy red stained bottom Lucy suddenly began to buck and claw on Eugenia’s lap and all at once a raspberry-like sound escaped her lips. It was followed by a wail and quickly overtaken by chuckling sobs.

“Please Ma’am I’m sorry,” Lucy howled, “I’m so sorry.”

“Are you? Are you?” Eugenia asked angrily over and over punctuating her words with hard spanks.

“Oh yes, oh mercy,” Lucy sobbed.

“You think it is as easy as that?” Eugenia barked at her.

Lucy was given over to a full flood of tears and a song of angry wailing that quickly became hoarse in her throat.

“Please,” she croaked.

“You will learn that spanking is an art,” Eugenia said firmly, perhaps easing the spanks a little now, “And submission and aesthetics are important.”

“Yes Ma’am I’m sorry, I’ve learned my lesson,” Lucy wailed.

“I very much doubt that,” Eugenia snorted, “But if you are truly contrite then we can begin.”

“Oh please,” Lucy groaned.

“I want you to stop this comedy at once and tuck yourself into my legs so that your bottom is elevated for the rest of its punishment,” Eugenia explained.

“Oh please I’m sorry, I’ll wear the dress,” Lucy cried.

Eugenia ignored her and immediately resumed the spanking in earnest. After perhaps 15 or so good hard wallops a bawling Lucy struggled to comply with her instructions.

“You think this is a debate?” Eugenia accused her.

“No Ma’am,” Lucy said frantically.

“You will obey.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Very well, get up and put on your new dress,” Eugenia ordered.

I had to laugh as a very much changed Lucy hastened to comply. In the end I had to assist as Lucy had forgotten the workings of such attire, but finally she stood all smart and girlish and very, very contrite.

“This is suitable attire for a spoilt child,” Eugenia told her. “You will wear this dress and others like it until you are ready to attend the Caulfield Academy for Young Ladies where you will be required to dress like a lady. If your behaviour improves you will retain adult clothing during the holidays, if it doesn’t then you will not.”

“Yes Ma’am, but…” Lucy blinked her big blue wet eyes rapidly and began to wring her hands.

“There are no buts, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good. Now to show that you are truly repentant you will turn around and bend over to lower your under things,” Eugenia said casually.

Lucy gaped at her and even Elisabeth looked somewhat disconcerted.

“It is necessary for you to submit willing to a short punishment to demonstrate your new found demeanour,” Eugenia said brusquely. “Amy, fetch the cane.”

I licked my lips and did as I was told.

“Oh please Ma’am I have been punished enough,” Lucy protested.

“You wish another spanking then? Before we proceed?”

Lucy gasped and responded by awkwardly turning about and fumbling with the hem of her dress.

“You will bend and bare at once,” Eugenia ordered.

It was amusing to watch, but slowly and little-by-little a rather humble Lucy leaned down and lifted the veil of her skirt behind. It took even longer for her bloomers to fall, but fall they did until they formed an untidy puddle at her ankles.

“I received my first caning at your age,” Eugenia explained, “I was much like you in fact. I received eight as will you.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Lucy whispered.

It took a moment longer and some prompting, but finally Lucy was full bent over with her bare blister-bruised bottom thrust backwards.

“Lovely,” Eugenia sighed, “I am no hypocrite, I will enjoy this.”

The cane landed with a satisfying swish-thwack and Lucy jerked. But the girl was at the end brave and took her caning well. Only at the last two did she yell out and bob a little at her station. She managed to save a fresh round of tears until after she had shaken Eugenia by the hand.

“Thank you Ma’am,” she said in a sad voice.

Elisabeth who had been pensive throughout smiled and clapped her hands in petite applause.

“Now with your bottom still bare, you will go and stand in the corner Lucy,” Eugenia said sharply, “And we will take tea.”

For the rest of the day the only sign of rebellion from Lucy was when the maid came with tea and saw the girl still bare-bottomed in the corner. But that was only a fluttered sigh and quickly quelled with a word.

*

I can’t say that Lucy was a changed girl after that, but after a fashion, and with no other option, she cooperated with the new regime. Her attitude was aided in part by the knowledge that in a few weeks she would return to London and her new school where she believed she would at least escape the humiliating condition of enforced girlhood.

It was still amusing to see her out and about in Venice where she was often taken as a much younger girl if she was fortunate and much mocked if she was not. She occasionally railed at her situation and then came close to reverting to her former behaviour, but a public threat of a sound spanking soon had her toeing the line.

In fact Eugenia did not rely on that first spanking to keep Lucy in check and she, like I, was put on a maintenance regime where she was soundly spanked once a week.

Our paths were to cross many times in the years that followed and the Laithwaites became firm friends but there is yet one more aspect to this small family I wish to relate before coming to a close.

Once Lucy had by now gratefully returned to London her mother opted to stay on for a few months longer while Eugenia and I completed our grand tour of Italy. At the time I had wondered what Elisabeth had made of Eugenia’s methods, but I was not to be left puzzling at this for long.

One day on returning from a rare unaccompanied shopping trip, I believe I needed hairpins or some such, I overheard a strange sound coming from within Eugenia’s room. It did not take long before I realised that a spanking was in progress and a pretty sound one at that.

I was agog I have to admit, and not a little jealous. I knew that Lucy had returned to London so I could only think that the maid had crossed her in some way. So, naughty girl that I was, I stayed to listen at the door.

After several minutes the previously muffled groans of the unfortunate recipient of Eugenia’s attentions began to put more force in her cries and final began to yell out. If the miscreant had thought to signal an end she was to be woefully disappointed. If anything the impact of what I knew to be a hairbrush got louder.

“Present that bottom properly or I will begin over with a gentleman’s razor strap,” I heard Eugenia growl.

“Yes Ma’am,” came the distressed reply.

I knew then that I recognised the voice and although I could not immediately place it, I was sure that it was no young maid.

The spanking lasted a good while after that and by the end whoever was being spanked was sobbing hard.

“Amy you may come in now,” Eugenia said from beyond the door.

I blushed and a rash of butterflies took flight in my tummy. I had been caught and would be punished. However, my curiosity was stronger and without so much as a pause I opened the door and entered.

There in the corner in a girlish sailor suit was what I took for a young girl and I thought I must be wrong about the mature voice I had heard. But although the costume was immature, it was clear that the ravage bare bottom displayed to me was anything but. In fact it was perhaps the finest full round bottom I had ever seen.

I was still staring excitedly at the punished rounds when the owner stole a glance at me over her shoulder. It was Elisabeth.

“Keep your nose pressed to the wall,” Eugenia growled.

Elisabeth Laithwaite whirled her flushed face back to the wall in a trice.

“Elisabeth was feeling rather guilty about failing Lucy, especially after she was so readily brought to heel,” Eugenia explained, “So after some discussion, it was agreed that what was sauce for the goose was… well you get the idea.”

I nodded. I was dumfounded.

“In a while I will cane our naughty miss and mark me, it will be no girlish eight for you,” Eugenia scolded. And then to me she continued, “She is to be spanked every day and where the scandal is not too great she will be so attired in public for the rest of the month until she returns to London.”

“I see,” was all I could manage.

“Come now, do not be so shocked, you yourself know how cathartic sound punishment can be. Especially that accompanied with extensive humiliation.” Eugenia had a twinkle in her eye and I suddenly realised what firm friends we had become.

All the same I blushed and averted my eyes.

“In a few days I intend to give her an extensive birching in full Bavarian style, you may remember,” Eugenia said with a fruity lick of her lips.

I blushed again and nodded. Elisabeth shifted uneasily in the corner.

“After that, say in about a week or so, I will give Elisabeth here the choice of a repeat of the operation or a much more public humiliation. It will be a tortuous dilemma I assure you,” Eugenia said with relish, “But our friend here was quite clear at the inception of this little drama, I was to punish her to my utmost and with all my skill and experience.”

I gulped and shot a glance back at Elisabeth’s magnificent posterior.

“Perhaps she was not fully aware of the extent of your… experience in these matters,” I ventured.

“I am quite sure she wasn’t,” Eugenia chuckled. “Now my sweet friend, eavesdropping were you? I think you can disrobe and joining my new charge in the corner. In an hour or so I will cane you both together.”

And so began a very unusual afternoon.

My presence, not to say my proximity while in the corner, seemed to embarrass Elisabeth no end and Eugenia was determined to milk the situation. She had us stand side-by-side for over an hour while she no doubt compared our bottoms. Then hip to hip we had to kneel on the bed with our bottoms in the air and offer our behinds to Eugenia’s cane.

Our mistress dealt out our due in bursts of six, and stingy biting bursts they were too. My eyes were quite watering after just one set and poor Elisabeth could not hold her tongue at all. I have to say that it had been a while since I had had such a cleansing good cry and there was an added delicious piquancy to being thigh to thigh with another woman.

At one point towards the third set of hard biting cuts Eugenia remarked, “Amy, if you could only see, Elisabeth cries at both ends so prettily like you.”

I was mortified and for a moment my face must have rivalled my behind for colour. Thankfully, Elisabeth was lost in writhing sobs and as a novice at the emotions she must have been contending with. I doubt if she then realised what Eugenia had said or what she had revealed about her own secret nature.

However, as with my own experience, I knew that she would later relive her ‘ordeal’ as if it were a spicy novel and perhaps indulge in all that was usually forbidden in that regard.

After our caning we were returned to the corner and Eugenia took such pains at the slightest need to call the maid that within another hour Elisabeth and I were both quivering wrecks from the mortifying exposure. I wondered then what more horrors Elisabeth might face given the heavy baptism she had undergone and I must confess I was thrilled.

*

I did manage to speak to Elisabeth before the rather intense birching episode. I wanted to know if she knew what she was submitting to.

Her reply was surprising and fulsome. She said, “I rather hope not for I do not have great courage, but I do know a little of what Lucy must face. I find it intriguing to say the least and if the experience up to now is anything to go by, also most salutary. How then could ask less of myself?”

I nodded but had to add, “But you do know it will be… difficult?”

“Character building no doubt, but I ask you, will I come to any real harm? Have you?” She was suddenly the older woman and wise. I felt like the young girl I truly was next to her.

“No,” I agreed and together we laughed.

The laughter for Elisabeth was to be short-lived. Eugenia had made no ideal threats and Mrs Laithwaite was daily both soundly spanked and subjected to her humiliating attire, often donned during corner time and in full view of the maid.

The following Sunday we took a landau out to a cottage that Eugenia had bid me find, the precise details of which escape me. But it was small with a large attic and quite remote with a large forest nearby from which to furnish the necessary.

Elisabeth’s humiliation was begun with the instruction to denude herself until she was clad only in her brief bodice and stockings. And apart from the addition of some ugly country shoes, that was how she was led into the wood to collect the instruments of her own chastisement.

I must say that it was no unpleasant thing to watch that magnificent still peony stained bottom bend and bob among the gentle Tuscan woodland and Eugenia and I walked hand in hand without a care in the world as Elisabeth laboured.

“What if someone, a peasant perhaps, should chance by?” Elisabeth was clearly mortified and knew not what to clutch at to obscure from imagined prying eyes.

Eugenia shrugged and said, “I wish now we had brought a maid or two or maybe a rakish lothario to serve as an audience. I think you would weep ere a stroke was laid upon your arse in such dire straits. Then the fulfilment for us all afterwards would all the greater.”

“But the scandal…” Elisabeth was shocked.

“I would take pains that there was none I assure you. Do you not trust me?”

Elisabeth sighed and let her hands fall from her exposed womanhood.

“Truly I do and in my more tranquil thoughts I am content,” she said.

“Not too content I hope,” Eugenia teased.

“Indeed not,” Elisabeth said hastily.

Eugenia’s eyes narrowed and she muttered sharply, “I think a ginger fig and a curry comb with cayenne will be added to this evening’s proceedings.”

My breath was robbed from me at the prospect of such erotic cruelty and Elisabeth quailed and mouthed entreaties until she was urged to trot on ahead of us again.

“You shall administer the first few clysterings,” Eugenia said randomly, “I trust you have the resolve enough for it?”

“I think so,” I managed to say, but my head and heart was spinning.

“So do I, for if you fail me you will get as much as she endures,” Eugenia warned.

“Yes Ma’am,” I agreed hastily.

*

The birching came only after extensive preparation and I had to wonder if I had ever looked so humble. I remembered Bavaria, my worst and at the same time my most treasured memory. If I had ever doubted either Eugenia’s resolve or Elisabeth’s nature, such thoughts were dispelled that day.

Elisabeth was secured in a kneeling foetal position with her bottom obscenely directed at the ceiling. Her eyes had a glazed look and even before the first enema she was wet enough to receive a man in her larger place. Eugenia offered me a wink.

“Plenty of soap mind,” Eugenia urged.

Even I gulped; I knew that could sting a bit. However, we did not wait long and then moved to proceed.

After a good cleansing Elisabeth was climbing walls and didn’t know whether to purr or howl. The carefully fashioned ginger nugget settled the matter.

“Please take it out,” Elisabeth hissed.

“Nonsense, it is still potent and besides I have two or three more for you to enjoy,” Eugenia teased.

Elisabeth could scarce breath and what lungs she had, she used to beg.

Taking full advantage, Eugenia made her kiss and lick the birch withes and actually ask nicely to feel them burning across proffered bottom.

I thrilled at the scene as indeed did Elisabeth I think. For even though real tears poured down her cheeks, her inner thighs were equally wet.

The birching, when it came, was glorious. For the longest time Elisabeth did not know whether to beg or scream, wail or moan. Her bottom pumped and shook like dancer and such a lovely dance she shared.

Her bottom, which was already stained a mottled red, became textured with a lively graze that took on a darker hue as the first of the strokes stung home. Elisabeth hissed and groaned as she twisted in her bonds but she did not really sing a song worthy of the dance until the cayenne unguent was applied after her first course.

“How many rods did we make?” Eugenia asked with such nonchalance that I trembled.

“Perhaps seven, less than 10 certainly, but surely…” I ventured a reply.

“We will see how she fares after five goes around,” Eugenia purred. She was in her element.

*

I swear that Elisabeth did not sit down all that week and for the first three days she walked with a curious pigeon-toed gait. But she glowed like a goddess and I could have fallen in love I think.

“Amy I am envious,” Eugenia whispered to me a day or two after the epic punishment.

She had just spanked Elisabeth as she had promised and soundly too, regardless of her ravaged raw behind. The older woman’s tears had been sweet. I think for once she was grateful to stand in the corner, even if it was for the greater part of the afternoon.

“Amy I am envious,” Eugenia repeated, “I wish I too had a strong one to hound my vulnerable bottom so.”

I thought for a moment that she desired something of me.

“I crave a husband and master like no other to crush me to his will,” she continued.

I felt twinge of jealousy, but I also understood. Not all my thoughts were of her and Amazons like her.

“Perhaps such a man would skin my bottom raw in front of a host of his fellows and make me lick his boots in gratitude ever after,” she mused her eyes focussed on faraway.

I was shocked, you have no idea how much in awe of Eugenia I was.

Sensing my disquiet she shook herself and said, “Don’t worry, I would always find the time to toast your naughty bottom.”

I blushed.

“Speaking of which,” she grinned. “I think it is high time I spanked you.”

I was as lightheaded as I always was.

“You know, I think I would rather like you in one of those sailor outfits, you could carry it off almost as well as Lucy. Maybe when Elisabeth has gone home and we head on to Egypt you should go as my young niece,” she mused.

“Oh please,” I protested, “I would just die.”

So preoccupied was I with her threatened game that I was distracted throughout my spanking and did not offer up the reaction Eugenia had hoped for. As a consequence my bottom was so welted and blistered that I remained unseated for almost as long a dear Elisabeth.

As for Elisabeth, well she had one more fate to suffer on this trip, but that, as they say, is another story.

The end for now.



8 Responses to “Memoirs of a Lady’s Companion (part 2 of 2)”

  1. That was an absolutely amazing story, DJ. You fit a lot into this neat two-parter. I’m sorry to see these characters leave so soon, but I’m glad you took a break from the long form for this tale.

    PEH

  2. 2 paul1510

    Damian,
    excellent, very Edwardian in flavour. 😀
    Paul.

  3. 3 bahamagirl1996

    Loved it! Thought they would be lovers , but it was still awesome

  4. 4 DJ

    Thanks guys

    maybe this one I will return to now I have set the scene for a quick short now and then.

    DJ 🙂

  5. 5 saucywriter

    A really superb story yet again, DJB! But then, we have come to expect no less from you! It would be nice if you found the time to revisit this one now and again – for now, as ever, my thanks and good wishes.

    Two comments in one day – as you can see, I’m trying to make up for lost time!

    sw

  6. 7 Sara

    What is a “curry comb with cayenne” please?

    • 8 DJ

      A curry comb is a brush for horses – it has very stiff bristles. There are lighter versions for people in BDSM usage. You can decide which was used.
      Cayenne pepper is a hot pepper which would be very uncomfortable if used with a brush on already sore skin. 😐

      Cruelty is easier in fiction. 😉


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