The Petard


spankedThe island fell away from them at this elevation, a teardrop of rock in a turquoise sea a thousand miles from anywhere. The sub-tropical forest that dominated 10 miles by five of private haven was impossibly green and only here and there did purple rocks poke through like natural towers that gave vantage points like the one on which they now sat sipping cool drinks.

The Petard was a private nation unto itself, a luxury destination for a certain well-paying elite, which was something Edward was beginning to think his latest beautiful employee was having trouble grasping.

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Elisabeth said in amazement.

Edward leaned back and eyed the raven-haired woman with a dispassionate curiosity for a moment. For someone of her background and experience, she sometimes seemed somewhat naïve.

“You have crossed two oceans to ask that? Didn’t you read the files you were sent?” Edward said sharply.

At 40-something he was perhaps little more than 10 years older than Elisabeth, but where his steel grey thinning hair backed this up in spite of his youthful trim heavy build, his eyes were far older and wiser.

“Yeeess,” Elisabeth said carefully, “But…”

“You didn’t quite believe it?” he concluded.

Elisabeth pursed her lips, making her look her age.

“I thought given the situation and the indemnity and permissions I had to sign, not to mention the rather generous pay and pension provisions, well that I would be required…” her words tailed off as she paused still puzzled. “I mean, I watched that movie you sent, it was quite graphic as I recall, I assumed you wanted to make sure I knew what I was letting myself in for.”

“Well that is correct, but corporal punishment as it applies to you was just a matter of course in case it was needed. All the women on my staff have to put there tidy little behinds on the line or it wouldn’t be fair,” Edward explained.

“Mine is not so little, let’s be honest, is that why?” Elisabeth looked hurt.

Edward grinned.

“Not at all, you’re prettier than most of the rest put together,” he lied, “But damn it all, you’re a motivational therapist and management development consultant. There are 46 women on this island all thinking they are here to take my money and party. I can’t spank them all when they get out of line and that’s what they are counting on.”

“So you are serious, you want me to handle the day-to-day punishments,” Elisabeth said in an incredulous tone, she also sounded disappointed. “But I thought… I mean I was trying to get away from that kind of thing, you know, enforcing disciplinary procedures and responsibility.”

Edward sighed and looked up at the sky in frustration.

“Let me be frank Liz, you’re great, no I mean it, but I have at my disposal some of the most beautiful women in the world…”

“And most of them are at least 10 years younger than I am,” Elisabeth put in.

“To put it bluntly, yes, but that is not my issue, not personally,” he insisted, “You are definitely more my speed… but you know what I mean.”

“You are all charm,” Elisabeth said tartly.

“Look these girls are not some kind of harem…” he began again.

“That is exactly what they are,” Elisabeth countered him, “I know, because that’s what I signed on for. You own me if you want, I am at the mercy of your wicked ways, right down to a whipped backside and a three year contract period of eating off the mantelpiece.”

“Yes, well great, I’ll take you up on that, but that’s between us sure… the girls… they are for my clients and other guests as and when… You don’t think that I have time? do you see?”

Elisabeth was beginning to.

“Look,” Edward continued, “If you want to join the fray and let me get someone else then absolutely. You’re a good fit. You can serve drinks naked or I can stick a pony tail up your bum and you can compete in the pony races… whatever.”

Elisabeth blushed; it had been kind of what she had imagined.

“But I need a supervisor and woman to keep the girls in line for me,” Edward said wearily. “You don’t actually have to wallop anyone if you really don’t want to, but hold the line. Set some boundaries, there are plenty of dominators to help.

“Okay, okay, I guess if that’s what you need, I am here to serve and I already made that commitment,” Elisabeth replied now mostly mollified, “But I am no dominatrix, in my book it is better to receive than to give.”

“But you can handle it?” Edward asked pointedly.

She nodded.

“Great,” he sighed, “Now remember they are tough girls and in my name you own their little bottoms. Do what you want, have fun, just keep them in line and weed out those whose greed was too big for their backsides, if you know what I mean?”

“I thought you only hired the genuine submissive?” Elisabeth said, suddenly concerned. “Besides they are all over 21…”

“Sure they are, older mostly and I do only recruit girls who are into the lifestyle, but with all expenses paid, £60,000 a year, plus pension, plus bonus, plus £100,000 severance payment… you know one of my girls on a medium contract can walk away with a cool million. Well you begin to see my point, even with screening… you know… we get the wrong element sometimes,” he said sounding irritated with her now. “Hell, it makes me feel bad if the girls don’t really dig it and some of my clients can play rough. I really don’t need anyone freaking out.”

God how naïve was she anyway? The thought troubled him for a moment and then he shrugged, it was quite charming in a way.


That morning Elisabeth had found out that Candy and… she struggle to recall and then shrugged, the leggy one anyway, had been skiving off and smoking dope on what they imagined was a private part of the island. Drugs were strictly verboten for the staff and strongly discouraged among the clients, which was a hard sell when two girls got caught doped up.

Damn it, she thought, can’t they just do what they’re supposed to?

She had taken them off the recreational service rota and sent them for a good bottom blistering from Alec, a man who could extract discomfort from the most hardened submissive. Furthermore she had put the girls on triple cleaning duty, including scrubbing out the sceptic tank, a job normally done once a year by outside contractors. The week looked set to be warm for several days; she didn’t envy them.

“Oh please Miss,” Candy had wailed.

“Don’t please Miss, me,” Elisabeth had snapped at the girl, “Once Alec is done with you I want to see that tank shiny and clean enough to run drinking water through it. If not, you’ll do it again with a toothbrush… or have I’ll Alec supervise you as you lick it clean…” she added fancifully.

The leggy one was bug-eyed at these threats, but ash-blonde Candy only returned a pout. Elisabeth wondered if she might not be into that too. How do you punish a punishment addict?

“Oh but, please Miss, when can we go back to normal duties?” the leggy one asked wringing her hands, her limbs all a dangle as she chewed on bee-stung lips like a woman starved.

“You can graduate to pony service or gimp maids at the end of the month, whatever Alec thinks you like least,” Elisabeth told them with relish, maybe she was a sadist after all, she considered, few women liked permanent assignment to either. One of these duties would be irksome to one or the other.

That truth was written in Candy’s eyes now and for the first time since getting caught she looked miserable. The leggy one looked like she was going to cry. Candy is the ringleader then, Elisabeth knew she was going to be trouble.

Once Elisabeth had witnessed them both stripped and facing the wall in Alec’s dungeon she left them to it. Alec was scary, only hard-core girls went to him for recreation; Elisabeth only wished she had the guts.

She checked her i-phone for another task and for once saw that everything was under control. Right, she thought, I need an attitude adjustment before I turn into a freak.

Tom was her favourite dominator, and the most creative. He rarely stuck to a script and selecting a scenario with him was always a rollercoaster ride. Elisabeth found him spanking a small Latino girl over his knee. He must have been at it sometime because her bottom was a hard dusky red and she had given herself over to full-bloodied tears.

The fact that the girl was still wearing a t-shirt and had her jeans down around her ankles suggested a genuinely punitive episode and Elisabeth was intrigued.

“So what has she done?” Elisabeth chuckled as she strolled up onto the warm cedar-wood dojo-like cottage.

Tom was sitting in a white wicker basket chair like one from a 1970s porn movie and held the mewling Latino firmly across his lap.

“Found her spying on me and a very shy client. The woman was not amused,” Tom growled.

“And all she gets is a spanking?” Elisabeth said curiously.

“I was just getting started,” Tom barked down at the girl.

He was a stocky man of average height, with tanned arms that were just too thick for him. On top of his squared-jaw head was a short rash of grizzled grey and dark hair.

Elisabeth studied the girl’s eyes and decided that she was about as welcome as a tsunami about then. The girl had an obvious crush on Tom and from his gentle handling it may have been reciprocated. Elisabeth felt an irrational flash of jealousy then and crushed it.

“I’ll have her assigned with Candy and… and thing,” Elisabeth said casually, “At the end of the month she can serve as your personal… whatever on an Unlimited for… oh until we are short-handed.”

Elisabeth didn’t care so long as the girl pissed off just then. But despite being relived of the girl’s discipline and the promise of a long-term gift, Tom looked pissed-off at her interference.

“Well?” she addressed herself to the girl, “Cut along.”

To her credit the small bare-bottomed woman looked at Tom for her orders. But after a scowl the man reluctantly nodded. The woman leapt up and pulling her jeans over her overlarge red behind, she scurried away.

“So what can I do for you?” Tom asked.

“What did the client want?” Elisabeth boldly asked, but she was blushing.

“Victorian ward, very old-fashioned,” Tom told her, but his arms were folded and he looked annoyed, adding “And unrestricted.”

Elisabeth’s throat tightened so that she felt it in her ears. An unrestricted with Tom was a fantasy of hers, but she had never dared with any more than she would have with Alec.

“With or without?” she asked, thinking that she could really use another kind of workout just then.

Tom frowned and looked Elisabeth up and down, he hadn’t finished with Maria and was furious at the woman’s intervention whatever her needs. Why did the disciplinary supervisor have to be a woman, he wondered and not for the first time?

“It was a special,” Tom muttered, “And I am not going into details.”

Elisabeth was curious now and there was only one way to find out.

“I’ll take it, but with…” she began.

“No,” Tom growled.


“You can take it, but no conditions, amendments or forewarning,” he replied firmly.

The tightness in Elisabeth’s throat was all the way down and she was wild with anticipation. All the red flags were up, but she was a woman with a need. After all she was safe…

“And I reserve the right to improvise as per usual,” Tom added.

He could see from her eyes that she would bite and he had long dreamed of an Unlimited with the pesky woman.

As for Elisabeth, she knew she should run now. But instead she said, “It is going to be total purgatory isn’t it?”

Tom looked like a spider just then and he smiled; but only a little. Then he opened the door to the dojo to admit his fly.

“Oh God,” Elisabeth groaned.


The corset was too tight and pushed her breasts up to a ridiculous aspect. The rough cotton draws over silk stockings scratched a little and Elisabeth wondered why he had bothered with them, surely he wouldn’t permit them to her for long?

“You will do what you are told, girl,” Tom told her, his voice hard and deep, resplendent in its authority.

God he didn’t he have to try, she gushed inwardly.

“So you thought you could escape did you?” he growled.

Elisabeth frowned and wondered if this was part of the scene, it certainly seemed real enough.

“We will deal with that little matter first and then you will tell me where your sister is hiding,” he said.

So it was part of it, she relaxed.

“Smirking are you girl?” his voice sounded sharper now.

Should she resist or be smart-mouthed? She was just pondering her response when Tom turned to the corner and picked up a bucket. There was a funnel and a rubber hose inside, which he removed before filling it with hot soapy water.

“You know I don’t do…”

“Be silent and go and face that wall,” he bellowed.

“Tom I…”

Tom put down the bucket and took two strides towards her. Then upending her across his knee he partially pulled down her draws and slammed his palm down hard across her bottom.

“Ouch,” she yelped, puzzled at the lack of warm up.

The spanking that followed was hard and fast and in a minute Elisabeth was kicking and gasping for breath as she bucked under the onslaught.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” she wailed.

“No you’re not,” he said in disbelief and began to spank her harder.

“Tom… I…” her voice trembled and she clamped her mouth shut to ride out the sting.

He lit quite a fire before he was finished and what she had taken for dry breathy sobs, to her surprise was augmented by some dampness around her eyes.

“Now go and stand in the corner,” he barked at her.

She didn’t need telling twice. The corner made her blush, not her scene at all, but she wasn’t exactly a time-out virgin. Strangely her head swan as if from wine, red no doubt, she thought ruefully as she sneaked a rub of her bottom. But then she had to contend with the sound of hot water landing in the bucket.


Tom made her kneel up on the leather bench and fold herself right over with her arms grasped behind her thighs. This made her bottom stick obscenely upwards and exposed as she rarely had been before.

The brass antique nozzle at her anus felt cold and the physical discomfort began to contend with her shame as it press at her narrow opening.

“Tom, please,” she whispered as finally the metal broke the last of her resistance and eased itself deep into her innards.

Intimate now with his every movement she felt him raise his arm, and something slurped.

The stinging heat was impossible and flooded her like liquid steel as it penetrated her like a devil goat to the core of… of, oh cripes… she gasped her breaths tumbling over one another as they escaped ahead of the surge which began to assault her behind the eyes.

Elisabeth was given corner time in lieu of relief until she rocked, cramping at the wall.

“Please Tom,” she begged.

Finally she traded one humiliation for another and she cried. That’s unexpected, she thought, but it felt strangely cleansing in more ways than one.

“Over you go again,” he said as he started to refill the bucket.

Elisabeth gaped at him and started to cry again.


It took two more spankings for her to comply fully with his demands and then she had to simple endure the cleansings that burned intimately in her bottom over and over until she was uncertain of the count.

“Now where is your sister?” he asked.

“Couldn’t I have a more logical safe word?” she asked, breaking from a character she hadn’t really got into yet. “I mean… how am I… am I going to answer that when…?”

“There is no safety for you and I want only one word and that is of your sister,” Tom barked ignoring her.

Then she had remembered that she had agreed to an unlimited. Oh God, she quailed, but the idea thrilled her.


As he strapped her across the bench again her anal bud throbbed and tickled her all the way in. But the sensation was amazing. Why hadn’t she…? Then she saw at once the taws and the birch rod. Both looked mean.

The strap had a rough edge like sandpaper and the birch was halfway to being of the penal variety. This was supposed to be a naughty ward scenario, she baulked. But then she remembered that he had said there were refinements. Oh God she was in the hands of an evil dastardly Victorian guardian with criminal intent.

Before this was over she would begin to wish she had a sister to surrender to his wrath.

She’s in the cupboard, blister her bum good. Give a million enemas and I’ll help. The little scene ran through her head as a false comfort.

“Please, eh… please don’t, I’m sorry… don’t…” she muttered, begging was another distraction, she loved to play at it sometimes, but she wasn’t usually so sincere.

Instead of the taws though, Tom took up a huge battledore paddle with lots of small holes drilling in its striking surface.

“Your sister hated this in her sorority days. But strangely…” Tom patted her bottom with the beast as he spoke.

Elisabeth wondered if he were actually speaking of the client now. A bead of lubricant tickled at her split and ran to her bud in an echo of the throb at her anus. She blushed. It was impossible he couldn’t see it. His laughter confirmed it.

“Oh well I’ll just have to go harder then,” he chuckled.

The sudden blast of the wood on bottom was soul stealing.

“Yah,” she gasped, unable to be more expressive with the wind knocked from her sails.


Elisabeth’s bottom stuck up like two great grazed knees and she was sobbing for England. Never had she felt anything like it and in no uncertain terms he had promised her the taws and birch for desert.

“Tight enough for you?” he whispered in her ear.

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir,” she wailed her distress.

But all the tears were a counterpoint to hot water that trickled elsewhere.

“I don’t suppose you will be so keen for my attention next time I am busy will you?” he whispered in her ear, as if soft words didn’t count as a character break.

“No Sir,” she sobbed miserably, but part of her wasn’t so sure and suddenly she wanted to be thoroughly sorry. She needed it.

“This taws is interesting,” he said stretching between his hands, not that she could see, nose down and still crying as she was. “I had intended a lengthy dose for our little voyeur, but she can wait. You will have the pleasure first.”

“Yes Sir,” Elisabeth croaked.

The rough leather soared across her flesh like fire and she shrieked.

“See what I mean?” he asked.

Elisabeth drew a hard breath and finally gasped a soft, “Yes Sir.”

“Your blistered bottom is about paddled-out,” he said with genuine regret, “But this hurts as much and I can go for a very long time with it.”

“Yes Sir,” she gasped.

Her knees ached from her posture, a sure sign that her bottom was needful, but she hated the up-thrust indignity of it.

“Shall we continue?” he posed the rhetorical question.

The tongue of leather fire licked her again forcefully and she had no need to yell for relief. The throaty howl she made was heartfelt and entirely natural.


For the first 40 minutes she cried lovely tears. It was all she had in her surrender. Then as she came to herself she felt him watching and the throbbing itch in her bottom was the thing. That took over an hour to ease and by then she was beginning to ache from her punitive vigil, becoming bored even.

“If we are done…? I could…” she offered meekly.

“I have a few days off now,” he replied casually, “Besides I haven’t birched you yet.”

Elisabeth gulped. “Then at least can we… I mean…” she blushed.

“Sure,” he said brightly.


Elisabeth loved anal sex, but not when her hands were cuffed in the small of her back and certainly not when coupled with pleasuring him with her mouth. For once she thanked God for the extensive enema earlier that day. His cock felt massive in her bottom as he rode between throbbing raw cheeks; every curve of her hips seared by the birch.

“Please, please, please Tom, let me come, please let me come,” she begged.

“May be after your second birching, or your third,” he said finally allowing his manhood to pulse fiercely in her bottom. “Or… or…. Ahhh.”

“Oh God Tom,” she groaned.

“Do you really want to go?” he gasped as he collapsed beside her.

“Bastard, don’t you dare release me yet,” she wailed.

Tom laughed and rolled over.

“Like I said, I have a few days off,” he said with a yawn, “But I expect Edward will be pissed off at you if you drop out for that long; such a shame.”


4 Responses to “The Petard”

  1. 1 paul1510

    a job made in heaven for some. 😉
    You could turn this into a great series, I’m sure that your imagination is up to it. 🙂
    I don’t actively look for typos, this one jumped out at me, ” Well you begin to see my pint,” I think you meant point.

  2. 3 cindy2


    Your restrained use of explicit reference intensified the eroticism of the images you drew with your words. Is this your first (and I hope not last) story featuring the enema?

    • 4 DJ

      Thanks cindy – no not the first to feature an enema by any means. Although rarely do I focus on it. 😉

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