“I
didn’t have much time,” I explained, although I knew
explanations wouldn’t change her thoughts.
“I’m
afraid, my dear, they’re going to have to be redone tonight.
But before that, you’ve earned some swats. We’ll take care
of that now.”
“Yes ma’am,”
I replied.
“Take my bag back
to my compartment, and wait for me.”
She
gazed into my eyes with her arrogant expression, running her
hand lightly over my cheek. “You haven’t even recovered from
your last punishment, have you?” she suggested, as if she felt
sorry for me.
“No, ma’am,”
I replied.
“But
then, perhaps, keeping you bruised is good for you?” She was
at once tender and ruthless, and that combination was hypnotic.
“Run along and prepare yourself.”
She
preferred me in my undergarments when she punished me. These
were things she bought for me to wear, stockings just like hers,
with seams. I attached them to the garters of an old-fashioned
corset replete with strong stays and bones that were laced tight
at my waist. The one I wore this day encased my torso firmly in
its own hourglass design, stopping just beneath my breasts, so
that flesh poured out above, and at the bottom the garters
framed my fanny at the rear and my sex in front. I wore a small
pair of undies, Margaux’s compromise to current fashion,
though for punishment I removed them too.
I
took off my dress and hung it on a hanger in the small
compartment closet, and then removed my panties. My high heels
remained, as did the choker necklace that I wore. Margaux liked
the looked of a collar at my neck; she’d determined that it
would remind me, as the corsets did, of my station. I agreed
because everything she had me do felt so fulfilling in its own
enigmatic way.
I
spied myself in the mirror and blushed looking at myself.
Turning around, there were still two small bruises that were
only beginning to yellow. There would be more before the
afternoon was over. Shuddering, I turned back again, wondering
if she’d take time afterwards to pursue our other passions ...
I knew I’d welcome it. Closing the closet door, I went on to
complete the preparations. I didn’t dare not; she’d be
furious if I weren’t ready for her.
Finding
the ruler in its usual spot at the bottom of her purse, I sat
down to wait with the implement poised on my lap, knowing it
could be minutes or hours before she’d arrive. Everything she
did was deliberate, even making me wait. Thankfully, it wasn’t
long this time, and when she walked through the door, I stood
for her as I always did.
“Elise,” she
said sharply, “stand in the corner, I’m changing for
dinner.”
“Yes,
ma’am,” I replied respectfully, turning so my nose was
facing the corner like a naughty child.
I
heard her shuffling about through her closet, and listened to
all the familiar sounds of changing clothes.
“Face
me,” she ordered sternly, when she was finished. I complied,
turning to see her haughty eyes burning through me. “I expect
perfection in your work Elise, you know that. If I have to
admonish you daily for your slovenly habits I will.”
“I’m
so sorry, ma’am.”
“I imagine you
will be.” She sat down. “Now come.”
Though
the compartment was small, there were still several steps
between us, which I crossed quickly so that I wouldn’t further
irritate her.
She
tenderly stroked one thigh as her eyes peered up at me. “How
unfortunate to have to mark these,” she commented. She was
smiling, though the smile was hardly genuine, neither were her
regrets about my soon to be marked skin. I knew she couldn’t
wait to let the ruler fly. For that matter, I couldn’t wait
either, not because I enjoyed the experience, but because I knew
I needed her attention to me in this peculiar way.
She
pulled me down abruptly and positioned me over her lap. My arms
and head hung down to the ground, since she liked my fanny and
my upper thighs right in front of her eyes. I’d never seen her
arm swing back before the ruler struck, but I could easily
imagine the powerful move.
She let it fly and
I instantly jerked, “Ooo ow, oh noooo,” I simmered beneath
my breath.
“Shush!”
she ordered, “if you want this in the hallway where everyone
can easily see and hear you, I can arrange that!” Even though
the train was chugging noisily on its way, I took great care in
silencing my cries, knowing if I wasn’t careful, the sounds of
my punishment would rise above the constant roar.
The
ruler descended on my rear with at least a half-dozen smarting
cuts. I shrieked to myself with each one. The edge of the ruler
was sharp enough to leave marks and I could tell that these
stripes would be visible for days after. Once she finished with
the fleshy part of my rear, she traveled lower in measured
increments, until she was striking the top of my thighs with
cruel smacks.
“Oh,
my gawd,” I whimpered again. My body thrashed about her lap as
though somehow my movement might spare me some of the pain.
Unfortunately, it had an even worse effect as the ruler struck
in all kinds of odd angles that made the skin burn even more
vividly than it might have otherwise.
For
her finale, Margaux peeled off a half-dozen strikes right in the
center of the worst pain, and I let loose a cry that could have
been heard outside the door, if someone had been passing by.
“There,”
she stated brusquely. I could tell she’d put down the ruler,
because her hand was kneading my sore cheeks. Her fondling
immediately brought other things to mind, times when my
punishments led to hot interludes of erotic passion. She felt
between my legs where I was warm and moist. “Perhaps we’ll
have to enjoy each other’s company more yet tonight,” she
suggested. Then she pushed me to my feet and rose herself.
“Now, get dressed… in the green knit, and join me for
dinner.”
As
she turned and walked out, all I could think of was finishing
what she’d begun with her wandering hand; though I knew that
too was also her province to control.
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